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LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two Copies Received 

DEC 20 1905 

Copyright Entry 

a 

cuss <X^ XXc. No. 

/ S 

COPY B. 



Copyright 1905 by 
Elizabeth Heber 


Scott-Miller Press 

INDIAKAPOLIS 


Not? 


'^HESE selected stories have been 
A used by teachers of the kinder- 
garten and primary grades in the 
Indianapolis Schools. This little 
book has been compiled for mothers 
and teachers with the purpose of 
meeting a demand for children’s 
literature that will not only add to 
the child’s literary culture, but will 
also suggest high ideals through the 
story form. For material used we 
gratefully acknowledge our indebted- 
ness to : Rev. Neil McPherson, 
Sarah L. Kirlin, Leonore D. Eldridge, 
Martha A. Gill, Bessie Brown Adkin- 
son, Edith D. Wachstetter, Grace 
Erskine DeVere, Fords Hulburt 
Publishing Co., for the selections, 
“The Anxious Leaf” and “Coming 
and Going ” from Henry Ward 
Beecher’s, “Norwood.” 


. . . Compiled by . . . 

ELIZABETH HEBER 

Primary Teacher School No, 4 
Indianapolis, - Indiana 

Illustrations by 

GRACE GARFIELD 




CONTENTS 




Siegfried, the King’s Son I 

The Song of the Pine Tree 6 

A Christmas Story .13 

The Myth of Arachne 18 

The Birds of Killingworth 21 

The M3rth of Pan 25 

The Bell of Atri 28 

The Anxious Leaf 31 

Coming and Going 33 

How the Dimples Came 36 

The Proud Little Apple Blossom 38 

The Brave Knight 40 

King Robert of Sicily 44 

The Great Stone Face 50 

The First Christmas Tree 60 

The Story of Abraham 64 

The Story of Moses 70 

The Story of David 73 

The Story of Joseph 76 

TTie Courtesy of the Spartan Boy 83 

Twenty-third Psalm 85 
















Siegfried, the King’s Son 


^ lEGFRIED was the son of the good King 
Siegmund. He lived in the great palace 
with his father and the gentle queen, his 
mother. 

Siegfried had everything his heart could de- 
sire. He was loved by every one about the 
palace. He had many servants to wait upon 
him, and beautiful clothes to wear at all times. 
More than this, the stables of the great palace 
were full of horses, and Siegfried could ride* or 
drive whenever he wished to do so. 

Now, the king was as wise as he was good, 
and he knew that if Siegfried would grow to be 
a good king he must learn to work with his 
hands. The king and queen talked of it, and, 
although they disliked to part with their son, 
they decided to send Siegfried to Mimer, the 
wonderful blacksmith. 

Mimer was a queer little man. His back was 
bent and his hair was long and white. He had 
a long white beard and two very sharp, black 
eyes. Mimer ’s shop was out in the great, dark 
forest, and many boys came to learn of this 
wonderful master, for Mimer, you must know, 
was the best blacksmith in all the king’s coun- 
try. 

To this shop Siegfried was sent. At first he 
was very lonely and unhappy. There were no 
servants now to wait upon him. His soft, beau- 


Pate I 


tiful clothing had been exchanged for a suit of 
the coarsest material and a huge leather apron. 
There was no soft bed waiting for him at night, 
only a pile of straw in the corner. But Sieg- 
fried was a brave boy, and lost no time com- 
plaining. He worked patiently at his anvil, 
day after day, learning from his master to make 
strong chains of iron, as well as dainty chains 
of gold and silver, for the queen to wear. One 
day Mimer came into the shop and sat down 
beside Siegfried ^s anvil. The boys could see 
that he was troubled, and they left their anvils 
and came to the master, begging him to tell 
them what troubled him. 

Slowly he raised his head and looked at them 
all. Then he said: “A giant has come into 
the country, who says he is the most wonderful 
smith of all. He says he has made a coat of 
armor that no sword can pierce. I have worked 
day and night, and cannot make a strong 
sword. Who is willing to try for me ? ^ . 

The boys all hung their heads, for they knew 
not how to help Mimer. Then Siegfried stood 
before his master and said: ‘‘Let me try, oh, 
Mimer ! ’ ’ And the master was willing. Sieg- 
fried went to work at once, and for seven long 
days he did not leave his place at the anvil. 

At the end of the time he brought to Mimer 
a sword that was strong and bright. “We will 
try it,” said Mimer, and called together all 
the boys, and took them to a little stream near 
the shop. Mimer then took a single thread 
of wool and threw it into the water. As it was 
carried along, Mimer took the sword and held 


Page z 


it before the thread. The water carried the 
thread along until it reached the sword. Then 
one half of the thread passed to the right of the 
sword and the other to the left, and the thread 
was not moved from its course. ‘‘This is a 
good blade,” said Mimer proudly. But Sieg- 
fried was not satisfied. He took the sword and 
broke it in pieces and put it into the fire again. 
For three long weeks Siegfried worked pa- 
tiently at the anvil. Then he brought to Mimer 
a sword that was sharper and brighter and 
stronger than the first. 

Again the boys were taken to the little 
stream, and this time a handful of wool was 
thrown into the water. When it reached the 
edge of the sword half of the wool passed to the 
right and half to the left of the sword, and not 
one single thread was moved from its place. 
Siegfried, however, was not satisfied, and again 
broke the sword into pieces and put it back into 
the fire. 

Patiently and faithfully he worked for seven 
long weeks. The sword that he brought to 
Mimer now was stronger and brighter and more 
beautiful than either of the others. The handle ) 
was wound with flowers, and the edge was as/ 
bright as the lightning. 

This time, when the boys gathered at the lit- 
tle stream, a pack of wool was thrown into the 
water. When the wool reached the edge of the 
blade, half passed to one side and half to the 
other, and not one thread was moved from its 
place. 

“We will give it another trial,” said Sieg- 


Pagc ? 


fried. He ran quickly to the shop and paused 
a moment before the great anvil. Then he 
swung the sword, once, twice, thrice, about his 
head, and then brought it down onto the iron. 
There was no noise, but the great anvil fell 
apart, and the sword was as sharp and bright as 
ever. 

‘‘This is the best I can do,” said Siegfried. 
‘ ‘ Good master, my sword is done ! ’ * Then Mim- 
er sent his swiftest messenger to the king to 
tell him that he was ready to meet the giant. 

The day of the contest came. Mimer’g 
friends sat on one side of the road, the giant’s 
friends on the other. At the top of the hill the 
two masters were to meet, the giant with his 
armor, Mimer with his sword. Soon a mighty 
shout arose! The giant, wearing the wonder- 
ful coat of glittering steel, came up the hill. 
He sat down on a huge rock at the top of the 
hill. As the people waited, a queer little man 
was seen coming slowly up the hill. His back 
was bent, and his white hair hung about his 
shoulders. At his side he carried a sword so 
bright that the lightning seemed to play about 
its edge, as he walked. 

Slowly he went to the top of the hill and 
stood before the giant. It was Mimer, the 
master. He loosed the sword from his side and 
raised it above his head. “Are you ready?” 
he asked. “Yes ; strike,” said the giant, laugh- 
ing, for he was not afraid. One, two, three 
times the sword flashed about Mimer ’s head. 
Then it fell again at his side. “I do not wish to 
hurt you,” he said, “but if you will take off 


Page 4 


your armor and place it on that stone, I will 
show you what this wonderful blade can do/’ 
The giant only laughed again — laughed so loud 
and so long that the very earth seemed to trem- 
ble. Then he took off the armor and laid it on 
the rock. Mimer stepped back, raised the 
sword again, swung it about his head until the 
light seemed to blind the people. Then it came 
down. The people waited. There was no clash 
of iron. All was still. 

Then Mimer stepped up to the armor and 
touched it with his foot. It fell apart, and the 
rock beneath it fell apart, too. Half the rock 
started to roll down the hill. On, on it went, 
faster and faster, and fell with a mighty splash 
into the river at the foot of the hill, and if you 
should go to that far-away country you could 
see it lying there, far down below the surface 
of the water. 

Then a mighty shout arose ! Mimer ’s friends, 
and the great king, too, joined in the applause. 
The giant, no longer boastful, stooped down, 
gathered up the two parts of the armor, and 
went with his friends into a far country. Mim- 
er took the wonderful sword and went back to 
his place in the blacksmith shop, still the master 
of all the smiths. 

Very few people, however, knew that it was 
the king’s own son, Siegfried, who had made 
the wonderful sword. 

[Adapted 



Paze s 


The Song of the Pine Tree 


J T was a wee pine tree in a very large forest. 

It could not see anything around it, for the 
other pine trees about it were so very tall. 
They could only tell the little pine tree what 
they saw. At night the little tree would often 
gaze at the sky and the stars that peeped out. 
And sometimes the big, round moon would pass 
over the sky. And all day long, all that the 
little pine tree could see above it was the blue 
sky, and the beautiful white clouds that went 
sailing by like so many ships on the sea. The 
little pine tree wished to grow and be tall, like 
the rest of the trees, for it wanted to see what 
was in the world outside of the forest. The 
tall pine trees would sing songs as the wind 
whistled through their branches, and the little 
pine tree waited day after day, so that it might 
be tall and sing songs, too. When summer 
came the birds would rest on the branches of 
this wee tree, but would not build nests, be- 
cause it was too low. When winter came little 
white snowflakes came fluttering down and 
rested on the branches of the little pine tree. 

Year after year the little tree waited, but it 
grew all this time, and seemed to stretch higher 
and higher its beautiful green branches. 

One day, when the little snowflakes had flut- 
tered down and made all the world white, and 
the wind was whistling a merry tune, the little 


Pace « 


pine tree heard some strange noises. The tall 
pine trees nodded their heads, for they knew 
who were coming. They were the woodmen. 
They had a sled with them, drawn by horses. 
The sight was strange to the pine tree, for it 
had never before seen woodmen, nor a sled, nor 
horses. But the old pine trees knew what it all 
meant, for they had seen the woodmen many 
times. They wondered which tree the wood- 
men would choose. Now, the little pine tree 
had grown, and it was not a wee tree any 
longer, but was a straight, strong, beautiful 
tree. The woodmen walked about with some- 
thing very bright and shining in their hands. 
When they came to this pine tree they looked at 
it, shook it and sounded the ax against its 
trunk. 

How queer the pine tree felt! It wondered 
what they were going to do with it. Suddenly 
a sharp sound rang out in the air, and another, 
and still another one. And the pine tree felt 
itself swaying and swaying, and down it went, 
lower and lower, until its branches touched the 
soft white snow on the ground. The woodmen 
lifted the pine tree very carefully, placed it on 
the sled and drove the horses away. Pine Tree 
was happy now, for he was going to see some- 
thing of the great, wonderful world. 

The woodmen drove the horses out of the for- 
est into the beautiful white world. On and on 
they went until at last they came to a little vil- 
lage by the sea. They drove through the vil- 
lage and into a great shipyard, where saws 
were buzzing, hammers were pounding, and 


Paje 7 


busy men were hurrying about. Pine Tree had 
never seen anything like this before. He was 
lifted from the sled and his beautiful branches 
were taken from the trunk. Then he lay with 
many other logs for a long time, until one day 
the carpenters took him away, and he found 
that he was helping to make a part of a ship. 
Boards were nailed on, and the busy carpenters 
worked day after day. 

At last the strong and stately ship was fin- 
ished. It glided gracefully into the water and 
sailed away. Pine Tree was very happy now, 
for he was seeing new and strange things. The 
waves dashed carelessly against the ship. They 
seemed to have a song, too. Pine Tree had not 
forgotten the songs that the old pines used to 
sing. The waves did not always sing the same 
song — sometimes they would rush and roll 
against the ship very hard until they grew 
tired, and then they would roll on, and sing a 
quiet song again. 

Sometimes the ship would stop at strange 
countries, people would get off, other people 
would get on, and then the ship would sail off 
out into the sea again. Now, the pine tree had 
been a part of the ship for many years, when 
one night while the ship was sailing the seas the 
waves grew so high and strong that the parts of 
the ship could not stay together. So Pine Tree 
was thrown out upon the angry waves and waa 
rocked all night long — ^very roughly at first, but 
gently afterwards. When the sunshine looked 
down upon the sand the next morning it saw 
Pine Tree. Pine Tree lay there many days. 


Paee t 


How lonesome Pine Tree was! He seemed to 
hear the songs of the old pines, and sometimes 
the songs of the waves. One day he heard 
another song. It was a new song to the pine 
tree, for the song was sung by some little chil- 
dren who were digging in the sand close by. 
They came here every day to play, and once a 
man came with them. When he saw Pine Tree 
lying upon the sand he said: “This is just 
what I have been looking for. I will use this 
for the ridge-pole for my little cottage.’’ So 
he took Pine Tree away with him. After a 
time Pine Tree found himself a part of the 
man’s cottage, and, of course, he could not hear 
the songs of the forest, nor the songs of the 
waves, but he heard new songs. They were 
rock-a-bye-baby songs that the mother in this 
little cottage would sing to her children in the 
evening, when it was time for them to go to 
sleep. 

Years passed, and the children grew to be 
men and women, and after a while all the songs 
Pine Tree heard were those of the grandmother, 
which were soft and low. At last these, too, 
were heard no more — the little cottage grew 
quiet and everything was still. Pine Tree won- 
dered where everybody was. The only com- 
pany he had were the birds that came in 
through the window and built nests in the attic. 
Now the cottage was no longer a home, but was 
used as a barn, and the gentle cows, the woolly 
sheep and the kind horses rested there at night. 
They, too, seemed to sing a song to Pine Tree, 
but by and by even their song could not be 


Page f 


heard — nothing but the wind and the owls in 
the trees outside — because what had once been 
the cottage, and then a barn, was now a for- 
saken little hut. 

One day Pine Tree heard a man whistling. 
Oh ! how he hoped he would come in, for he had 
not seen anybody nor heard any of the songs 
he had loved for so long. Pine Tree heard the 
whistle come nearer and nearer, and at last the 
man stepped through the doorway. He looked 
about him and saw the spider webs hanging in 
the corners and the birds flying in and out of 
the windows, and he wondered how long it had 
been since people had lived there. He looked 
up and saw the ridge-pole, which had once been 
Pine Tree. “ Oh ! ” he said, ‘ ‘ I have found what 
I have long been looking for. ” So he climbed 
up and loosened the boards and took Pine Tree 
out of his resting place. Now Pine Tree was 
going once more out into the world. The man 
carried him on and took him into a little shop. 
It was a queer shop, too, for there were many 
bright, shining things lying on the work-bench. 
They were tools, you know. The man had a 
kind face and he handled Pine Tree very care- 
fully. He sawed and smoothed Pine Tree many 
days, and as he worked he whistled and sang, 
for he was happy. Sometimes he would whistle 
some of the songs that Pine Tree had heard 
when he lived in the forest, and then sometimes 
those he had heard on the ocean, and again he 
would whistle the songs that Pine Tree had 
heard in the home of the children. 

At last the man’s work Avas finished.' Pine 


Page lo 


Tree had been made into a wonderful musical 
instrument — a violin. The man took a bow and 
drew it across the strings, and as he did so he 
smiled and nodded his head, for the music was 
very sweet. The violin, which had once been 
Pine Tree, and then part of a ship, and the 
ridge-pole of the cottage and the barn, seemed 
to sing to the man the songs of the forest, the 
songs of the ocean, the songs of the home, and 
the songs of the lowly barn. 

One day the man put the violin in a case and 
took it away on a long journey. When the case 
was opened, the violin saw that they were in a 
strange hall full of people, and many of them 
were talking of this man — the violin-maker, 

The man lifted the violin from the case and 
went out upon a large platform before the peo- 
ple, and began playing for them. He seemed 
to say to the violin, “Sing for me,” and as he 
drew the bow across the strings the violin sang. 
It sang to the people, first the very songs that 
the tall pines sang in the forest. The song 
changed, and the lap of the waters, and the dip 
of the oar could be heard as on a moonlight 
summer night; then the angry wind and the 
dash of the waves could be heard as in a fierce 
storm. Slowly this song died, and everything 
was quiet. Then, after a little while, the far- 
away sound of children’s voic.es — their laughter 
and singing — was heard, and then came the 
sweet lullaby to the sleepy babes. 

These songs all died aw^ay, and the violin 
sang the songs of the birds in the summer-time. 


Pate I 


and the lowing of cattle, and the bleating of 
sheep in the cold winter-time. 

At last the violin could sing no longer the 
songs it knew, but a new song came forth which 
was also very beautiful, and which caused the 
people to bend forward and listen with eager 
faces, for it was the song that came from the 
heart of the old man who was master of the 
violin. 



Pigc IZ 


A Christmas Story 


J T was so long ago that the whole world has 
forgotten the date and even the name of the 
little town in which lived a little hoy whose 
name was Hans. 

Little Hans lived with his aunt, who was 
quite an old lady. She was not always kind 
to Hans, but this made no difference to him. 
He loved her just the same, and forgot that she 
was ever cross and very unkind to him at times. 

Hans went to school with many other boys, 
but he was not clothed as they were. He had 
to wear the same clothes both week days and 
Sundays ; the same even in the summer that he 
wore in the winter. 

It was now midwinter, when everything was 
wrapped in snow and glazed with ice, while the 
north winds sang loud and whistled down the 
chimneys, played very roughly with the bare 
trees, and crept through every crack and crev- 
ice of the house. The frost, too, was busy 
pinching the cheeks and biting the toes of the 
boys, and making them run, jump and dance to 
keep warm. 

The children were wild with the excitement 
and the joy that was astir at this time. For 
there were secrets in the air. Every one was 
busy making gifts for some loved one. 

It was the night before Christmas, the one 
great birthday on which the whole world rejoic- 


Pa£c ij 


eth and when all endeavor to make their fellow- 
men happy. 

The schoolmaster and all of his pupils started 
for the midnight worship and prayer at the 
church. All of the boys were well clothed, with 
heavy coats, fur caps, thick mittens, and very 
heavy and warm shoes. But little Hans liad 
only a poor, plain, ragged suit, with no over- 
coat, no mittens, and his shoes were only 
wooden ones. It was a very cold night, and the 
boys and the schoolmaster had to walk very 
fast to keep warm. But little Hans did not 
mind the cold so much, because the stars smiled 
doAvn upon him and seemed like so many dia- 
monds set in a deep blue canopy, each one glit- 
tering and flashing in the darkness. The snow, 
too, was a sparkling mass, and Hans wondered 
if the stars could see themselves reflected in the 
tiny snow crystals which covered the earth. 

At last they reached the church, whose win- 
dows were shedding forth a soft, golden light 
on the stillness and darkness of the cold winter 
night. This little group of worshipers quietly 
passed into the church and sank noiselessly into 
their pews. It was a beautiful place to Hans. 
He loved it dearty, and was always happy to 
come here. The candles were all lighted, and 
they burned steadily brighter and brighter, fill- 
ing the church with a beautiful mellow light. 
The grand old organ softly and clearly sent 
forth its tones, each one growing richer, deeper 
and sweeter, and gradually the voices of the 
choir boys and the tones of the organ filled the 
old church with such beautiful music that little 


Pige f4 


Hans’s heart seemed to bound within him, and 
his whole soul was enraptured, while there 
shone from his face a radiance that only a 
divine inspiration could bring- forth. 

At length, after the people had sung, each 
one knelt and offered thanksgiving to the Heav- 
enly Father, little Hans, too, knelt and offered 
thanks for the blessings which he had received 
during that year, and for the tender care of the 
Father of all. 

The people then quietly passed out of the 
warm church into the cold of the night. Hans 
was the last one out, and as he carefully made 
his way down the icy steps he noticed a little 
boy no larger than himself sitting on the steps, 
with his head resting against the church. He 
was fast asleep. His face was beautiful, and 
seemed clothed in a golden light. Beside him, 
tied in a cloth, were a square, a hammer, a saw 
and other tools of a carpenter. He had neither 
shoes nor stockings on his feet, although his 
clothing was spotless and of the purest white. 
It grieved Hans that the child should have no 
shoes, not even one to place for the Christ-child 
to fill with gifts. 

Hans stooped and took from his right foot 
the wooden shoe and placed it in front of the 
sleeping child, so that the Christ-child would 
not pass him by. Hans then limped along on 
the ice and snow, not feeling how cold it was, 
but only thinking of the poor child asleep out in 
the cold. 

The other boys were talking of the good 
things awaiting them at home, of the feasts, the 


Page 15 


plum pudding, the Christmas trees, and the 
many drums, wagons and blocks the Christ- 
child would put in their shoes that night. 

When Hans arrived home he found his aunt 
awaiting him, and when she saw that he had 
only one shoe, and he had told her all about the 
other one, she was very angry with him, and 
sent him to bed. Hans placed the wooden shoe 
from his left foot at the fireside, hoping that 
the Christ-child would remember him as he 
passed by. 

The first sunbeam that crept into Hans ’s bed- 
room and kissed him the next morning awoke 
him, and he bounded downstairs, and flew to 
the great open fireplace to find his shoe. 

Hans rubbed his eyes and caught his breath, 
for, to his great surprise, there were both of his 
wooden shoes, filled with beautiful toys ; by the 
fireside he found warm clothing and many 
other things to make him comfortable and 
happy. 

Hearing loud voices, Hans went to the door. 
The people were standing in a crowd about the 
priest, who was talking to them. He told Hans 
that where he had seen the child asleep on the 
church steps there was now in the window 
above a beautiful crown set with precious 
jewels. He said that the child was the Christ- 
child, whom the Heavenly Father had again 
sent among men on earth for that night, and 
that it was He with whom Hans had shared his 
wooden shoes. 


Pace i6 


The people bowed themselves before that mir- 
acle that the good God had seen fit to work, to 
reward the faith and charity of a child. 

Francois Coppee« {Adapte(i 



Pat« 17 


The Myth of Arachne 


A LONG time ago there lived a maiden whose 
name was Arachne. She could weave the 
most beautiful fabrics that people had ever 
seen. She chose the most exquisite colors. 
They were the colors that were found in the 
flowers, the green of the trees and grass, and 
the varied, dainty tints and shades from the 
blue sky and its gorgeous sunsets. 

People had said that Arachne learned to 
weave from the birds, although some of them 
thought that Arachne had been taught to weave 
by the goddess Athena. When Arachne heard 
that the people thought that Athena had taught 
her to weave she became very angry. She de- 
clared that Athena had not taught her to 
weave; that no one had taught her. She said 
she would compete with the goddess Athena in 
weaving. The goddess Athena was a noble 
goddess. She was the Goddess of Wisdom, and 
of all the Arts and Crafts. When she heard 
what Arachne had declared she said: ‘^It is 
very wrong that Arachne should be so proud 
and envious. I will go to see her. ’ ’ 

The goddess Athena disguised herself in 
humble apparel and visited Arachne. She 
talked with her about her weaving, and still 
Arachne boasted of the wonderful weaving she 
could do : but the goddess told her that she. was 
foolish to be so boastful. 


P»ee It 


This made Arachne angry, and she said : “I 
am not afraid at all, not of any one in the 
world.” At this moment the goddess threw 
aside her plain garments and revealed herself 
the goddess Athena. This did not frighten 
Arachne. She looked calmly at Athena and 
told her that she would give up anything, even 
her life, to prove to the people that she could 
weave even better than the goddess. 

They then set about to arrange their looms, to 
select their threads, and to begin work. At 
last they began. Whirr! Whirr! went the 
shuttles. Spin! Spin! they sang, faster and 
faster, in and out, over and under, flew the 
shuttles. 

Arachne had chosen the most delicate, lovely 
threads that she could find, but while she wove 
these beautiful threads she was thinking of her 
revenge and other evil and wicked thoughts, 
while her skillful and swift fingers moved 
faster and faster. 

At the same time Athena was sitting in the 
sunlight, busily and carefully weaving over and 
under, and in and out, her dainty, beautiful 
silken threads, which seemed to have come 
from the very sunbeams themselves. The col- 
ors were most harmonious and exquisite. Even 
the rainbow was surpassed. Athena was think- 
ing of the fleecy clouds, which were to her as 
white ships that sailed through the blue sea of 
the sky. She thought of the brown earth, with 
its emerald decking of trees and meadows; of 
the buttercups and daisies of gold, and the 
roses and lilies which dotted Mother Earth’s 


19 


carpet. She thought of the butterflies that 
flitted about, and of the birds, in coats of red, 
blue, glossy black, and dazzling gold. 

When Arachne looked at Athena’s work she 
shuddered with shame, for, although her own 
work had been skillfully done, it was marred 
by the envy, malice and evil thoughts she had 
woven into it. While Athena’s work was no 
more skillfully woven, it was by far the more 
beautiful. The azure sky, with fluffy white 
clouds ; the meadows, dotted with flowers, and 
fields, with their shady green trees, filled with 
birds of gorgeous hues, all made a wonderful 
picture. 

Poor Arachne knew her fate. She hastened 
away and took with her the threads that she 
had been using in weaving, and wrapped them 
about her neck. She thought she would end 
her life by hanging to a tree. This made the 
beautiful and kind Athena sad, and she said to 
Arachne: “You must live — ^live on forever,” 
and she touched Arachne and changed her 
form. Arachne gradually grew smaller and 
smaller, until she was no larger than a honey- 
bee. She had many legs and wore a brown, 
fuzzy coat. Instead of hanging by the threads 
she had used she now hung from a dainty silken 
spider web, for Arachne was still a weaver, but 
not a weaver as of old. 

Today, perchance, if you should see a busy 
little spider, it might be one of Arachne ’s chil- 
dren, or perhaps Arachne herself. No one 
knows — ^neither you nor I. 


Paec zo 


The Birds of Killingworth 


J T was spring, and the little town of Killing- 
worth told of the joy of living again. Every 
little rivulet had broken from its frozen chain, 
which had held it fast during the long winter, 
and was rushing on, rejoicing at its freedom. 
The purple buds, holding wonderful secrets of 
things to come, were bursting forth from every 
tree and bush, while from the topmost boughs 
the birds called and sang to their mates : ‘‘ Oh ! 
be happy, be happy, for spring has come ! ’ ’ 

There were all the messengers of spring — the 
robin, the oriole, and the bluebird — filling the 
orchard with their glad melody. The little 
sparrow chirped in glee for the very joy of liv- 
ing, and the hungry crows, in great crowds, 
called loudly the tidings of spring. But not 
long could they stop to sing, for the homes must 
be made, and soon from every tree and bush 
could be seen these dainty, downy nests, and in 
every nest the eggs, and in every egg a wonder- 
ful secret about which all the happy birds twit- 
tered and sang together. 

The farmers, as they plowed their fields and 
made their gardens that spring, heard these 
tree-top concerts, and saw the multitude play- 
ing and working about them, and they shook 
their heads and said : ‘ ‘ Never before have we 

had so many birds in Killingworth. We must ^ 
surely do something, or they will eat up half 


Page »i 


of our crops, and take the grain and fruits 
that should go to feed our own children.’' 
Then it was decided to have a meeting. All in 
the town were free to come, and here they were 
to decide what was to be done with the trouble- 
some birds. The meeting was held in the new 
town hall, and to it came all the great men of 
the town, and from far and near the farmers 
gathered. The great hall was crowded. The 
doors and windows were open, and through 
them came a beautiful flood of bird music, but 
the sturdy farmers and great men shook their 
heads as they heard it. And then they told 
how the birds were eating the grains and spoil- 
ing the fruit, and every one said the birds must 
go. There seemed to be not a single friend to 
the singers outside, until one man arose — the 
teacher in the town, much loved by the chil- 
dren, and himself loving everything that God 
had made. He looked sadly on the men around 
him, and then he said : 

“My friends, can you drive away these birds 
that God has made and sent to us, for a few 
handfuls of grain and a little fruit? Will you 
lose all this music that you hear outside ? Think 
of the woods and orchard without the birds, 
and of the empty nests you will see. You say 
the birds are robbing you ; but instead they are 
your greatest helpers. With their bright little 
eyes they see the little bugs and worms which 
destroy the fruit. Think who has made them. 
Who has taught them the songs and the secret 
of building their nests. You will be sorry 
when they are gone and will wish them back. ’ ’ 


Pafe zi 


But still the farmers shook their heads and 
said: “The birds must go.’’ So the birds of 
Killingworth were driven away, until not a sin- 
gle note was heard, and only empty nests were 
left. The little children of the town were hop- 
ing each day to see their friends again, and a 
strange stillness and loneliness seemed to fill the 
little town, for the music in the air had ceased. 

The summer came, and never before had it 
been so hot. The little insects and worms 
which the little birds had always driven away 
covered every tree and bush, eating the leaves 
until nothing was left but the bare twigs. The 
streets were hot and shadeless. In the orchard 
the fruit dropped, scorched and dried by the 
sun. When the grains were gathered one-half 
of the crop had been destroyed by the insects. 
Now the old farmers said among themselves: 

“We have made a great mistake. We need 
the birds. ’ ’ 

One day in the early spring a strange sight 
was seen in the little town of Killingworth. A 
great wagon covered with green branches was 
driven down the main street, and among the 
branches were huge cages, and the cages were 
filled with birds. Oh ! they were all there — ^the 
robin, the bluebird, the lark and the oriole — 
birds of every color and kind. When the great 
wagon reached the town hall it stopped. The 
cages were taken down from the branches of 
green, and little children, with eager hands and 
happy eyes, threw open the doors. Out came 
the birds and away they flew to field and 
orchard and wood, singing again and again: 


P«2r 43 


“Oh! we are glad to be here! We are glad to 
be here ! ’ ’ 

The little children sang, too, and the gray- 
haired farmers said : ‘ ‘ The birds must always 

stay in Killin g worth. ” 

Henry Wad»worth Longfellow [Adapteel 



Page 24 


The Myth of Pan 


J N a very far-away country, a long time ago, 
there lived a man who loved music and little 
children and the birds and flowers. And the 
little children loved Pan — for that was his 
name — because he told them such beautiful 
stories and played on a set of pipes which he 
had made from the reeds which grew by the 
river. Every evening, when it was time for the 
sun to go to sleep and all the little stars to wake 
up. Pan would take his pipes, go down to the 
river side, and play all the songs he knew. 
Everybody could hear Pan’s music for miles 
and miles, but many of them did not like his 
music, and wished that he would not play. 
Once some of these people gathered together 
and planned how they could stop Pan from 
playing his pipes, and while they were talking, 
some beetles near by heard their plans. Now, 
one of these beetles had hurt his wing at one 
time and had fallen down in the dust on the 
road, and could go no farther. It was a very 
hot day, and the poor little beetle was almost 
dead from the heat. Soon Pan came walking 
along and saw the beetle, and, picking it up 
very carefully, he carried it on some green 
leaves to a shady place, where he left it to rest 
and get well. The beetle had never forgotten 
Pan’s kindness, and when he heard the plans 
these bad people had made he said: “Come, 


Page 25 


friends, and go with me, for we must hurry and 
tell Pan what the wicked people have planned, 
so that he will not be there when they go to 
push him into the river. ’ ^ 

The beetles had only one day in which to 
reach Pan, for the evil people were going to 
carry out their plans the next night, so they 
spread their wings and flew as fast as they 
could fly. They could not travel far at a time, 
because their wings grew very tired and their 
bodies were so heavy. When they could fly no 
longer they would walk, and when they were 
tired walking they would fly again. In this 
way they hurried on and on, for the day was 
growing into night, and they could hear Pan 
playing his beautiful songs way down by the 
river bank. They had almost reached him 
when they heard what seemed to be a crowd of 
people running through the bushes and among 
the trees, and it seemed that they were going 
toward the river. Next there was a big splash 
and many voices talking loudly, and after that 
— silence. When the beetles reached the place 
where Pan always sat they could not And him ; 
but there in the river were his pipes, which he 
loved so well. 

The people had reached Pan before the 
beetles, and had pushed him into the river, and 
his pipes fell in, too, but Pan did not wait to 
get them. He climbed out and ran as fast as 
his feet would carry him. The people ran after 
him, but he leaped and bounded over the bushes 
and flowers, and ran on and on. Sometimes 
they were almost upon him, but he always out- 


Paec i6 


ran them. He wished to hide, but could find no 
place. He could not climb the trees, for the 
people could climb trees, too, and he could not 
hide in the grass or under the bushes, for they 
would be sure to find him there. 

At last, along the river bank, he spied the 
little violets that had closed their eyes, but were 
still gazing at the stars. One little violet 
seemed to say to him, ‘ ‘ I will hide you, ’ ’ and it 
folded its little petals around him. Pan was 
safe now, and from his hiding place he could 
hear the people searching for him. They 
looked for a long time, but they did not find 
him. He was happy and thankful, and, as he 
was very tired and the soft petals of the violets 
made a pleasant resting place, he was soon fast 
asleep. 

Away back on the river bank, where Pan 
always sat, were the beetles. They were very 
Sony that they had not reached him in time to 
tell him that the people were coming, and that 
they could not get his pipes out of the water, 
where they had fallen. And, though they never 
saw him again, they always remembered him 
and the beautiful music he used to play. 

One day some little children were picking 
violets by the river, and they found one little 
violet that had eyes just like Pan’s eyes. They 
took it home and named it Pan’s Eye, in mem- 
ory of their old friend, but, as that was rather 
a hard name for the little children to say, they 
called it Pansy. 


Page 27 


The Bell of Atri 


J N the little town of Atri, which was nestled 
on the side of a wooded hill, there was a 
strange custom. 

The king had one day brought to the town a 
great hell, which he hung in the market place 
beneath a shed, protected from the sun and 
rain. Then he went forth with all his knightly 
train through the streets of Atri and pro- 
claimed to all the people that whenever a wrong 
was done to any one, he should go to the market 
place and ring the great bell, and immediately 
the king would see that the wrong was righted. 

Many years had gone by. Many times the 
great bell had rung in the little town of Atri, 
and, as the king had said, the wrongs of which 
it told, were always righted. 

In time, however, the great rope by which the 
bell was rung, unraveled at the end and was 
unwound, thread by thread. For a long time 
it remained this way, while the great bell hung 
silent. But close by, a grape-vine grew, and, 
reaching upward, finally entwined its tendrils 
around the ragged end of the bell rope, making 
it strong and firm again as it grew around it, 
up toward the great bell itself. 

Now, in the town of Atri there lived a knight, 
who, in his younger days, had loved to ride and 
hunt ; but as he grew old he eared no more for 
these things. He sold his lands, his horses and 


Page 


hounds, for he now loved only the gold which 
the sale of them brought to him. This he 
hoarded and saved, living poorly, that he might 
save the more. 

Only one thing he kept — ^his favorite horse, 
who had served him faithfully all his life. But 
even this faithful friend he kept in a poor old 
stable, often allowing him to go cold and 
hungry. 

Finally the old man said: ‘^Why should I 
keep this beast now? He is old and lazy, and 
no longer of any use to me. Besides, his food 
costs me much that I might save for myself. 
I will turn him out and let him find food where 
he can.” 

So the faithful old horse, who had served his 
master all his days, was turned out without a 
home. He wandered through the streets of the 
town, trying to find something to eat. Often 
the dogs barked at him, and the cold winds 
made him shiver as he wandered about, hungry 
and homeless, with no one to care for him. 

One summer afternoon, when all the drowsy 
little town seemed sleeping, the tones of the 
great bell rang out, loud and clear, waking the 
people from their naps and calling them forth 
to see who was ringing the bell of justice. 

The judge, with a great crowd following, 
hurried to the market place, but when they 
came near, they stopped in surprise. No man 
was near, who might have rung the bell ; no one 
but a thin old horse, who stood quietly munch- 
ing the vine which grew around the bell rope. 
He had spied the green leaves growing there. 


Page 29 


and, being hungry, had reached for them, thus 
ringing the great bell of Atri, and calling forth 
the judge and all the people. 

“ ’Tis the old knight’s horse,” the people 
cried. Then many told the tale of how the old 
horse had been turned out to starve, while his 
master hoarded and saved his gold. 

“The horse has rung the bell for justice, and 
justice he shall have,” said the judge. “Gro, 
bring the old knight to me. ’ ’ 

The knight was hurried to the place, where, 
before all the people, the judge censured him 
for his cruel treatment of his faithful old horse, 
and asked him to give a reason for it. 

“The old beast is useless,” said his master. 
“He is mine, and I have a right to do with him 
as I wish. ’ ’ 

“Not so,” said the judge. “He has served 
you faithfully all his life. He can not speak to 
tell of his wrongs, so we must speak for him. 
Go, now; take him home. Build a new stable 
and care for him well. ’ ’ 

The old knight walked slowly home, while 
the horse was led behind by the crowd. 

So the Great Bell of Atri had righted one 
more wrong, for it was even as the judge had 
commanded. The faithful old horse lived in 
comfort all the rest of his life, for his master, in 
caring for him, learned to love him again, and 
treated him as only a faithful friend should be 
treated. 

When the king heard the story he said : 

“Surely, never will the bell ring in a better 
cause than in speaking for a suffering dumb 
creature who can not speak for himself. ’ ’ 

Henry Wadiworth Longfellow [Adapted 


Pace JO 


The Anxious Leaf 




O NCE upon a time a little leaf was heard to 
sigh and cry, as leaves often do when a 
gentle wind is about. And the twig said: 
‘‘What is the matter, little leaf?” 

And the leaf said : ‘ ‘ The wind just told me 

that one day it would pull me off and throw me 
down to die on the ground ! ’ ^ 

The twig told it to the branch on which it 
grew, and the branch told it to the tree. And 
when the tree heard it, it rustled all over, and 
sent back word to the leaf : “Do not be afraid. 
Hold on tightly, and you shall not go till you 
want to.” 

And so the leaf stopped sighing, but went on 
nestling and singing. Every time the tree 
shook itself and stirred up all its leaves, the 
branches shook themselves, and the little twig 
shook itself, and the little leaf danced up and 
down merrily, as if nothing could ever pull it 
off. And so it grew all summer long, till 
October. 

And when the bright days of autumn came 
the little leaf saw all the leaves around becom- 
ing very beautiful. Some were yellow and 
some scarlet, and some striped with both colors. 
Then it asked the tree what it meant. And the 
tree said: “All these leaves are getting ready 
to fly away, and they have put on these beauti- 
ful colors because of joy.” 


Paje 3 1 


Then the little leaf began to want to go, too, 
and grew very beautiful in thinking of it, and 
when it was very gay in color it saw that the 
branches of the tree had no bright color in 
them, and so the leaf said : ‘ ‘ 0 branches ! why 

are you lead-color and we golden ? ’ ^ 

“We must keep on our work-clothes, for our 
life is not done ; but your clothes are for holi- 
day, because your tasks are over,’^ said the 
branches. 

Just then a little puff of wind came, and the 
leaf let go, without thinking of it, and the wind 
took it up and turned it over and over, and 
whirled it like a spark of fire in the air, and 
then it dropped gently down under the edge of 
the fence, among hundreds of leaves, and fell 
into a dream, and it never waked up to tell 
what it dreamed about. 



Pate 52 


Coming and Going 


HERE came to our fields a pair of birds 
that had never built a nest nor seen a win- 
ter. Hovr beautiful was everything ! The fields 
were full of flowers and the grass was growing 
tall, and the bees were humming everywhere. 
Then one of the birds began singing, and the 
other bird said: “Who told you to sing?” 
And he answered ; ‘ ‘ The flowers told me, and 

the bees told me, and the winds and leaves told 
me, and the blue sky told me, and you told 
me to sing.” 'Then his mate answered : “When 
did I tell you to sing ? ’ ’ And he said : ‘ ‘ Every 
time you brought in tender grass for the nest, 
and every time your soft wings fluttered oif 
again for hair and feathers to line the nest.” 
Then his mate said: “What are you singing 
about?” And he answered: “I am singing 
about everything and nothing. It is because I 
am so happy that I sing. ’ ’ 

By and by five little speckled eggs were in 
the nest, and his mate said: “Is there any- 
thing in all the world as pretty as my eggs?” 
Then they both looked down on some people 
that were passing by and pitied them because 
they were not birds. 

In a week or two, one day, when the father 
bird came home, the mother bird said: “Oh, 
what do you think has happened ? ” “ What ? ’ ’ 
“One of my eggs has been peeping and mov- 


Page U 


ing!^^ Pretty soon another egg moved under 
her feathers, and then another and another, till 
five little birds were hatched ! Now the father 
bird sang louder and louder than ever. The 
mother bird, too, wanted to sing, but she had 
no time, and she turned her song into work. 
So hungry were these little birds that it kept 
both parents busy feeding them. Away each 
one flew. The moment the little birds heard 
their wings fluttering among the leaves, five 
little yellow mouths flew open wide, so that 
nothing could be seen but five yellow mouths ! 

“Can anybody be happier?” said the father 
bird to the mother bird. “We will live in this 
tree always, for there is no sorrow here. It is 
a tree that always bears joy.” 

Soon the little birds were big enough to fly, 
and great was their parents’ joy to see them 
leave the nest and sit crumpled up upon the 
branches. There was then a great time, the 
two old birds talking and chatting to make the 
young ones go alone ! In a little time they had 
learned to use their own wings, and they flew 
away and away, and found their own food, and 
built their own nests, and sang their own songs 
with joy. 

Then the old birds sat silent and looked at 
each other, until the mother bird said : ‘ ‘ Why 

don ’t you sing ? ’ ’ And he answered : “I can ’t 
sing — I can only think and think. ” “What are 
you thinking of ? ” “lam thinking how every- 
thing changes. The leaves are falling off from 
this tree, and soon there will be no roof over 
our heads ; the flowers are all going ; last night 


Page u 


there was a frost; almost all the birds have 
flown away. Something calls me, and I feel as 
if I would like to fly away. ’ ’ 

‘^Let us fly away together!” 

Then they arose silently, and, lifting them- 
selves far up in the air, they looked to the 
north. Far away they saw the snow coming. 
They looked to the south. There they saw 
flowers and green leaves. All day they flew, 
and all night they flew and flew, till they found 
a land where there was no winter — ^where flow- 
ers always blossom, and birds always sing. 



Page 35 


How the Dimples Came 


o NE bright, beautiful spring day, when the 
earth was fresh in its new green dress 
decked with flowers, while the birds sang their 
sweetest songs, and the brooks babbled merrily 
on their way to the rivers, two wee dimples 
were sent by Mother Nature on a journey to 
find their work in the world. 

It was a delightful journey through the blue 
sky and past the fleecy white clouds. 

They played and danced with the sunbeams 
who led them on their way to the earth. 

The dimples could see nothing for them to do, 
so on they went, frolicking and playing. 

At last they found themselves among the 
trees and the bright flowers of the earth. 

They chased the sunbeams under the leaves, 
they rode on the butterflies ’ wings, they sipped 
the honey with the bees from the flowers. Still, 
they could find nothing to do. The sunbeams 
bade the dimples good-by and silently crept 
home. '‘Oh,” said the dimples, “what shall 
we do? We have no place to rest tonight.” 
“Here is a bird’s nest; let us rest in this,” said 
one dimple. ‘ ‘ No, that will never do, ’ ’ said the 
other dimple, “for there is the mother bird, 
who rests in her nest all night. ’ ’ 

Just then they spied a window swing open on 
its hinges. The tiny stars came out and peeped 
into the window, and the lady-moon sent sil- 


Paiie 


very moonbeams down to help the dimples find 
a resting place. Then the dimples flew through 
the window, and there, close by, in her crib, 
curtained around with white, was a wee baby, 
rosy, sweet, and bright. 

“Oh,’’ said one dimple, “I would love to rest 
on that rosy cheek.” “So would I,” said the 
other dimple. And they each took a rosy cheek 
for a couch, and here they rested the whole 
night long. 

The robins early in the dawn sat on the 
cheery boughs and sang loud and long, thus 
waking the dimples, who now knew not what 
to do. “But,” said one dimple, “we have not 
yet found our work.” The other dimple said: 
“Let us stay here. Baby’s eyes are opening, 
and we must hide,” and each dimple nestled 
away in baby’s cheeks. Then her big, blue 
eyes opened wide, to see the sunbeams that had 
crept through the windows to her crib. 

The sunbeams coaxed the dimples to come 
out and play, but the dimples would only peep 
out, and when they did, they brought smiles 
around baby’s rosy lips and sunny eyes. 

“So you have found your work at last,” said 
the sunbeams. And they had, for they helped 
to bring out the smiles in baby’s cheeks. If 
you look the next time you see baby you may 
see the dimples playing hide and seek. 



Pa/re J7 


The Proud Little Apple Blossom 


J T was the month of May, but the wind still 
blew cool, for the sun was not yet ready to 
shed his warmest rays on the waiting earth. 

Yet some of the birds had come, and more 
were on their way, and many beautiful blos- 
soms were already showing their pink and 
white blooms, so that from bush and tree, field 
and fiower, came the glad cry, ‘‘Spring is here ! 
Spring is here.” Now, it happened that a 
young princess rode by a beautiful orchard in 
full bloom, and she stopped to pick a branch of 
apple blossoms to take to her palace. All who 
saw the apple blossom praised its beauty and 
fragrance until the blossom became proud, and 
thought that beauty was the only valuable 
thing in the world. But as the apple blossom 
looked out upon the field she thought: “Not 
all of the plants are rich and beautiful, as I am. 
some seem poor and plain.” And she noticed 
a little, common, yellow fiower, which seemed 
to lift up its sunny head and grow everywhere. 

The apple blossom said to the plain little 
flower, “What is your name?” 

“I am called the dandelion,” replied the lit- 
tle flower. 

“Poor little plant,” said the apple blossom. 
“It is not your fault; but how sad you must 
feel to be so plain and to bear such an ugly 
name.” 


Page 38 


Before the little plant could reply a lovely 
little sunbeam came dancing along and said: 
'‘I see no ugly flowers. They are all beautiful 
alike to me.^’ And he kissed the apple blos- 
som; but he stooped low and lingered long to 
kiss the little yellow dandelion in the fleld. 

And then some little children came tripping 
across the fleld. The youngest laughed when 
they saw the dandelions and kissed them with 
delight. The older children made wreaths and 
dainty chains of them. They picked carefully 
those that had gone to seed, and tried to blow 
the feathery down off with one breath, making 
joyous wishes. 

“Do you see,” said the sunbeam, “the beauty 
of the dandelion?” 

“Only to children are they beautiful,” said 
the proud apple blossom. 

By and by an old woman came into the fleld. 
She gathered the roots of the dandelions, out of 
which she made tea for the sick, and she sold 
others for money to buy milk for the children. 

“But beauty is better than all this,” still said 
the proud little apple blossom. Just then the 
princess came along. In her hand she carried 
something that seemed like a beautiful flower. 
She covered it carefully from the wind. What 
do you think it was? It was the feathery 
crown of the dandelion. “See!” she said, 
“how beautiful it is! I will paint it in a pic- 
ture with the apple blossoms. 

Then the sunbeam kissed the apple blossom, 
and as he stooped low to kiss the dandelion the 
apple blossom blushed with shame. 

Hans Christian Andersen [Adapted 




The Brave Knight 


HEN Christ was on earth, He had a little 
band of disciples who loved him very 
much. The night before He went away from 
them, He took them to a little upstairs room 
and there had a supper with them. And it was 
said that at that supper, He used a beautiful 
golden cup in which He passed the wine to 
them, and when He went away from earth, the 
disciples loved everything He had touched, and 
they seemed to love most of all this golden cup. 
They called it the Holy Grail, and it was given 
to a very good man, who cared for it carefully, 
and for years it passed from one good man to 
another, for it was said that if it ever fell into 
the hands of a man who was not good, and 
Christ-loving the cup would be lost. 

So for many years it was carefully kept, and 
people took long journeys to see the Holy Grail, 
which the Master himself used when He was on 
earth. But one day the cup passed into the 
hands of one who was not worthy, and, as it 
had been said, it was lost. 

They searched for it far and near, but it 
could not be found. Finally there came some 
men who called themselves knights. They were 
brave, strong men, who did many wonderful 
things for the king,' and many of them said : 
*‘We will spend our lives hunting for the Holy 
Grail. We will take long pilgrimages until we 


Pate 40 


find it.” And so the knights searched over 
land and sea, over mountain and plain, hunting 
for the Holy Grail, but still they found it not. 
Then there came a knight whose name was Sir 
Launfal. He was very young — so young that 
he had never made a journey, nor worn an 
armor, nor had he ever done a wonderful deed. 
But he was brave, and said in his heart: 
will find the Holy Grail.” So he went to the 
silversmith and had a beautiful silver armor 
and golden spurs made, and to the helmet- 
maker, who made him a helmet of shining sil- 
ver. Next he chose from the stables the finest 
steed, and he was then ready for the journey, 
and Sir LaunfaPs heart was full of hope. 

On the night before the pilgrimage he lay in 
his room, and the armor hung on the wall be- 
fore him, with the helmet beside it, and the 
horse stood ready in the stable. At the first 
ray of morning he was to begin his journey, 
and as he lay he slept, and dreamed a dream. 
He thought it was already morning — the morn- 
ing of his pilgrimage. He had on his armor 
and his silver helmet, and was riding out of the 
castle gate on his beautiful steed. It was a 
June morning, and everything was beautiful. 
The very flowers and green grass beneath his 
feet seemed to bring Sir Launfal a message of 
hope. And as he rode his heart was very glad, 
and he said: shall find the Holy Grail.” 

He was riding out of the great castle gate when 
he heard a voice which was tired and weak, 
and it said: ‘‘Will you please give me some- 
thing?” Sir Launfal looked in surprise, and 


Paze 41 


there, crouching beside the castle gate, was a 
beggar, poor and ragged and weak, and it was 
he who had asked in a tired voice, ‘^Will you 
please give me something ? ’ ’ Sir Launf al looked 
at him and frowned, and said in his heart, 
^‘Why does this beggar lie at my castle gate to 
spoil the beauty of the morning?” But, because 
he was a knight and felt that he must give 
something, he took from his purse a piece of 
gold and threw it to the beggar. But the beg- 
gar looked at him and said, seeing his scornful 
frown : ‘‘I do not wish your gold that you give 

with scorn. Better to me a poor man’s crust.” 
But Sir Launfal rode proudly down the road on 
his way, for he felt that he could no longer 
listen to the poor beggar. Then he rode over 
land and sea, over mountain and plain, search- 
ing everywhere for the Holy Glrail, and, 
although it sometimes seemed very near, he did 
not find it. 

He had now grown to be an old man. The 
helmet and armor were rusted, his clothes had 
become thin and ragged, he was stooped and 
gray, and his eyes had grown dim with the 
years, but still he searched, and said in his 
heart: will find the Holy Grail.” Then he 

seemed to be near his old home one night, and 
he said to himself: ‘‘Before I go on my way I 
will once more look at my old home. ’ ’ And he 
entered the gate, and as he was walking up the 
path he heard a voice, tired and weak, and it 
said: “Will you please give me something?” 
He looked down, and there by his feet lay the 
beggar who had asked for something at his 


Page 4Z 


castle gate the morning he had started on his 
pilgrimage. 

This time Sir Lannfal looked at him and 
smiled. Then he said : “I have only a crnst of 
bread, but I will gladly share it with you.” 
Then, taking from his pocket a singte crust of 
bread, he stooped and gave the half to the beg- 
gar. Then Sir Launfal said: will get you 

water to quench your thirst,” and he went to 
where the little spring ran merrily along in the 
twilight, and, taking from his pocket a little 
tin cup, battered and rusted from years of use, 
he filled it to the brim with clear, cold water, 
and returned with it to the beggar. As soon as 
the tin cup touched the beggar’s hand it turned 
into a shining cup of gold, and behold! the 
beggar was no longer there, but in his place 
there stood a man, tall, strong and beautiful, 
wearing shining white garments, and around 
his head there seemed a radiant glow of light. 
The beautiful man looked at Sir Launfal, and 
he said, in a voice full of love and gentleness : 
'‘In your own castle yard you have found the 
Holy Grail by doing kindly service to one of my 
needy ones.” 

The beautiful man was gone. Sir Launfal 
lay in his room. The morning sunlight came in 
through the window, telling him it was time to 
arise and go on his journey. And his helmet 
and armor still hung on the wall, ready for 
him; but Sir Launfal lay long in thought. 
There was no need of his long pilgrimage, for 
the poor and the needy were close to his door, 
and he stayed to help them with gifts of love. 

James Russell Lowell {Adapted 


Pate 43 


King Robert of Sicily 

< 4 # 


ING ROBERT was ruler of all Sicily. Many 
lands and beautiful castles were his, and 
he had many servants, who obeyed his every 
word ; but they obeyed not because they loved 
him, but because they feared him. He was a 
proud king, and haughty — that is, he would 
look over his lands, and he would say : “Surely, 
this is a great kingdom, and I am a great 
king ! ’ ’ 

One Easter Sunday morning. King Robert 
went to church. He wore his finest robes, and 
riding with him were all of his lords and ladies. 
The morning was beautiful, and everything 
seemed to bear a message of love and joy. The 
grass and flowers that grew by the roadside, the 
trees that waved their branches above, and the 
blue sky, all seemed to bear the same message. 

But King Robert saw nothing beautiful. He 
was thinking only of himself. They reached 
the church, and the sunlight came through the 
beautiful windows, seeming to speak of God 
above. The pure white lilies on the altar whis- 
pered to each other, “On this day Christ was 
.risen ! ’ ’ The music from the organ seemed to 
reach every heart, but King Robert sat un- 
moved in his pew. When the minister spoke, 
the king heard nothing of the sermon until cer- 
tain words caught his ear. The minister was 
saying these words : ‘ ‘ The Lord can exalt the 


P«ee 44 


humble and can bring down the proud and 
mighty from their seats.” The choir chanted 
the words again and again. 

As the king heard, he threw back his head 
and said: “Why do they teach such words as 
these ? There is no power on earth or in heaven 
above that could take my throne.” 

By and by the king fell asleep in his pew. 
He must have slept a long time, for when he 
awoke the great church was dark and the moon- 
light was streaming through the great glass 
windows. The king sprang to his feet in alarm, 
and said : ‘ ‘ How dare they go away and leave 

me alone?” He rushed quickly to the door, 
but it was locked. He called loudly and 
knocked upon the door, and finally the old sex- 
ton, asleep on the outside, heard the noise and 
shouted : ‘ ‘ Who is there ? ’ ’ And the king an- 

swered : “ It is I — the king. Open the door ! ’ ’ 

The old sexton shook his head and murmured 
to himself : “It must be some madman locked 
in the church,” but he unlocked the door, and 
the king rushed wildly out — on out in the 
street, where the moonlight fell upon him. 
Then suddenly he stopped and gazed at his 
clothes in amazement, for instead of wearing 
his royal robes he wore nothing but rags. His 
crown was gone, and he seemed a beggar, and 
he cried out: “How can these things be? 
Some one has robbed me while I have slept, and 
left me these rags. ’ ’ 

Then he rushed on to the great castle, and at 
the gate he again called : ‘ ‘ Open ! I, the king, 

am here.” The great gate swung open and the 


Pagr 4$ 


king rushed on through the great castle halls, 
never pausing until he reached the throne room, 
and there he stopped and stood looking in sur- 
prise and amazement, for there on his throne 
sat another king, wearing his crown and wear- 
ing his robes, and holding in his hand his scep- 
ter. King Robert looked at the new king and 
cried : ‘ ‘ Why do you sit on my throne, wear- 

ing my robes and my crown and my scepter 

The new king only smiled and said: am 

the king, and who art thou ? ’ ’ 

King Robert threw back his head haughtily 
and answered : “I am the king. You have no 
right on my throne.” 

At these words the strange king smiled sadly, 
and replied: ‘‘I am the king, and thou shall 
be my servant. Yes, thou shalt be the servant 
of all my servants, for thou shalt be court 
jester, and wear the cap and bells, and have for 
your companion the ugly ape. ’ ’ 

Before King Robert could say more, the serv- 
ants came and hurried him through the castle 
halls, down to a little room, cold and bare, with 
nothing but a pile of straw in a corner, and 
there they left him alone, save for the ugly ape, 
which sat in the corner grinning at him. As 
King Robert looked down on the rough pile of 
straw he said: “It must surely be a dream, 
and I will awaken in the morning and find my- 
self the king. ’ ' 

The morning came, but when he awoke he 
heard the rustle of the straw beneath him, and 
there in the corner still sat the ugly ape. That 
day the new king called him to the throne, and. 


Ptge 46 


looking at him, said: “Art thou the king?’’ 
And King Robert proudly threw back his head 
as before and answered: “I am the king.” 

And each day the new king sent for him and 
asked him the same question, and each day 
King Robert gave the same proud and haughty 
answer. One day there came a summons to the 
court — King Robert’s brother, the Emperor of 
Rome, sent word for King Robert and all of his 
court to visit him at Easter-time, and great 
preparations were made for the journey. 
When the train was ready it formed a beautiful 
procession. The new king rode at its head, in 
his splendor, and all the beautiful ladies and 
the brave knights came riding behind in their 
gorgeous robes. At the last of this splendid 
train rode King Robert on a queer old mule. 
He had on the cap and bells, and behind him sat 
the ugly ape, and, as they passed along the 
street, the boys laughed and jeered ; but King 
Robert said to himself: “They will not laugh 
long, ’ ’ because his heart was glad now, for they 
were going to Rome, where his own brother 
ruled, and now surely he would be restored to 
his rights, for his brother would see and know 
that the new king was an impostor. Thus the 
splendid train rode to Rome, and the emperor 
was there to meet them. 

When the emperor saw the strange king he 
went to him and embraced him and called him 
“brother.” At this. King Robert rushed for- 
ward and cried out: “I am the king, thy 
brother. This man is an impostor. Do you not 
know me? I am the king.” But the emperor 


Paie 47 


only looked at him strangely, and^ turning to 
the strange king, he said : ‘ ^ Why do you keep 
this madman at your court?” The new king 
only smiled, and made no answer. 

The visit ended, and again the splendid train 
passed back to Sicily, and King Robert still 
rode behind. His heart was very sad, because 
he thought: “If my own brother knows me 
not, what hope can there be ? ” 

When the new king came back to Sicily he 
changed many of the cruel laws, and the whole 
land was made glad and happy, as it had never 
been before. King Robert noticed the change 
and wondered at it. 

It was Easter-time again, and King Robert 
said in his heart, ‘ ‘ I will go to church again this 
morning.” Behind all the procession he rode, 
as usual, and took his seat in the back of the 
church, so that no one might see him. Every- 
thing was beautiful at this Easter-time. The 
church, the flowers, the music, all bore the 
Easter message. When the music began it 
crept into King Robert’s heart, and as he lis- 
tened the tears rolled down his cheek, and he 
bowed his head in prayer. The first words that 
he heard were the old, familiar ones: “The 
Lord can exalt the humble and bring down the 
proud and mighty from their seats. ’ ’ As poor 
King Robert listened he humbly bowed his head 
and said: “Ah, surely that is true; the Lord 
in heaven is mightiest of all. He is the king. ” 

When the king and his court had reached 
home again that day, the new king called King 
Robert immediately to his throne room, and 


Pace 48 


upon his face there seemed to be a glorious light 
shining forth, and, looking at King Robert with 
a wondrous smile, he asked the old, old ques- 
tion: *‘Art thou the king?^’ But King Rob- 
ert only bowed his head and said: “I know 
not who I am. I only know that I am the most 
humble and most unworthy of all men to be the 
king.^' To these words the new king replied: 
“Thou art indeed the king, and I — I am an 
angel sent from Heaven to help thee for a little 
while. “ 

When King Robert raised his head, behold! 
he was alone. The angel had gone. He again 
had on his own robes, his own crown, and was 
bearing his own scepter. 

That day, when the courtiers came to wait 
upon the king, they found him kneeling beside 
his throne in prayer. 

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (Adapted 



Page 49 


The Great Stone Face 

0 NE afternoon, when the sun was going 

down, a mother and her little boy sat at 
the door of their cottage talking together and 
watching the great mountains before them, as 
they changed with the tints of the setting sun, 
from gold to crimson, and then to deep purple, 
till finally the afterglow was gone, leaving only 
the bare mountains standing out in gray relief 
against the evening sky. 

‘‘Mother,” said the child, whose name was 
Ernest, “the Great Stone Face is smiling at us. 

1 wish it could speak, for it looks so very kind 
that I know its voice is pleasant. ’ ’ 

And what was the Great Stone Face 1 

Off in the distance one great mountain rose 
far up above the others, and stood like a great 
giant among its fellows. By some peculiar art 
the rocks had been thrown together in such a 
way as to make the mountain look almost ex- 
actly like a human face. There was the broad 
arch of the forehead, a hundred feet in length ; 
the nose, with its long bridge, and the great 
lips, which, if they could have spoken, would 
surely have rolled thunder from one end of the 
valley to the other. 

It was a happy lot for children to grow up to 
manhood or womanhood with the Great Stone 
Face before their eyes, because all of its fea- 
tures were noble, so that just to look at it made 
one wish to be better. 


Pate 


This, then, was what Ernest and his mother 
sat looking at long after the sun had sunk be- 
hind those great piles of stones. 

“Mother,” said Ernest, “if I were to see a 
man with such a face I know I should love 
him. ’ ^ 

“If an old prophecy comes true,” answered 
his mother, “we may see a man some time or 
other with exactly such a face as that. ’ ’ 

“Oh, tell me about it, mother. Will it really 
come true?” eagerly inquired Ernest. 

Then his mother told him a story which her 
mother had told to her when she was a child. 
No one knew who had heard it first. The In- 
dians had known it years before, and they said 
it had been murmured by the mountain streams 
and whispered by the wind among the treetops. 
And the story was this : At some future day — 
no one knew when — a child would be born in 
the valley who would grow up to be the noblest 
and greatest man of his time, and his face 
would look exactly like the Great Stone Face 
which had gazed kindly down on the valley for 
so many years. Many of the people in the val- 
ley said this was only a foolish tale, never to 
come to pass, but a few still watched and 
waited, hoping for the great man to come, but 
as yet he had not appeared. 

When Ernest heard the story he clapped his 
hands, and said eagerly: “Oh, mother, dear 
mother, I do hope I shall live to see him.” 

The mother smiled, and, putting her hand on 
the boy ’s head, said : ‘ ' Perhaps you may. ’ ’ 

Ernest never forgot the story his mother told 


Page 51 


him. It was always in his mind whenever he 
looked upon the Great Stone Pace. He spent 
his boyhood days in the humble little cottage, 
helping his mother with the simple household 
duties, and, as he grew older, working in the 
fields to earn their daily bread. 

Ernest was a quiet boy, but happy. There 
was no school in the little village, but a great 
teacher was there. After the day’s toil was 
over Ernest would sit for hours watching the 
Great Stone Face, and to him it became the 
teacher of all that was good and noble. Many 
times, as the sunset rays tinted the side of the 
great mountain and lighted up all the features 
of the wonderful face, Ernest would imagine 
that it smiled on him, and perhaps it did. Who 
knows ? 

Often a great longing would come to Ernest 
as he watched the Great Face, and he would 
say again, ‘‘Oh, I wish the great man would 
come.” 

But the years passed by, and Ernest grew 
from a happy little child to a quiet, thoughtful 
boy, and still the great man did not appear. 

But one time a rumor went through all the 
valley that the great man had at last arrived. 
His early home had been in the quiet valley, but 
as a young man he had gone into the world to 
seek his fortune, and truly he had found it, for 
everything he attempted prospered exceed- 
ingly, till it might be said of him, as of Midas 
in the fable, that whatever his fingers touched 
changed at once to piles of gold. His name was 
Mr. Gathergold. All who saw him declared 


Page S2 


him to be the exact image of the Great Stone 
Face on the mountain side, and the man so long 
expected to fulfill the prophecy. 

The whole valley was in a state of great ex- 
citement, for the wonderful personage was com- 
ing back to his native home to spend his last 
days in peace and quiet. He sent before him a 
whole army of architects and workmen, who 
built for him a palace more beautiful and grand 
than anything the simple village people had 
ever before seen. 

The outside was of pure marble, dazzling 
white, while the interior was inlaid with solid 
gold and precious stones. 

Ernest watched the great palace grow, and 
his heart was glad, for finally his hopes were to 
come true. He waited eagerly for the great 
man himself to come. He spent more time than 
usual gazing at the face on the mountain side, 
that he might know exactly how Mr. Gather- 
gold would look. 

Finally the day of the great man^s arrival 
came. The whole village came out to see him. 
The rumbling of wheels was heard, and a car- 
riage drawn by four horses dashed down the 
road. 

*‘Here he comes!’' cried the people. ‘‘Here 
comes the great Mr. Gathergold ! ’ ’ 

As the carriage drew near the people pressed 
around, and there through the window they 
saw the great man. He was little and old, with 
a face as hard and yellow as the piles of gold he 
had gathered together. He had a low fore- 


Page Si 


head, small, sharp eyes, puckered about with 
many wrinkles, and very sharp lips. 

“The very image of the Great Stone Face!^' 
shouted the people. “Sure enough, the old 
prophecy is true, and here we have the great 
man come at last. ^ ’ 

By the roadside there chanced to be a poor 
woman and her two children, who, as the car- 
riage passed, held out their hands and asked for 
help. A hand was thrust out of the window, 
and a few pennies were thrown on the ground. 
Then the carriage rolled on, and the people con- 
tinued to shout, “He is the very image of the 
Great Stone Face.” 

But Ernest stood apart from the crowd, nor 
did he join in the shout, for his heart was full 
of sorrow and disappointment. Through an 
opening in the trees he saw the Great Stone 
Face looking benignly down upon him, and the 
great lips seemed to say: “He will come. 
Fear not, Ernest. The man will come.” 

The years went on, and Ernest ceased to be a 
boy. He had grown to be a young man now. 
He was not much noticed in the valley, for he 
was still quiet and modest. They saw nothing 
remarkable about his way of living, save that 
when the work of the day was done he loved to 
go apart and gaze upon the Great Stone Face. 

They knew not that it had become his great- 
est teacher, filling his heart and mind with 
thoughts and hopes far above earthly things. 

By this time poor old Mr. Gathergold was 
dead and buried, and the strange part about 
the matter was that when his wealth left him. 


Page S4 


as it did some time before he died, and he be- 
came a poor old man, the people seemed to for- 
get that there ever had been a resemblance to 
the Great Stone Face. Indeed, they said it was 
all a mistake, and the great man was yet to 
come. 

Suddenly through the valley there ran an- 
other rumor. Years before a young man had 
left the valley, had gone into the world as a 
warrior, and finally had become a great com- 
mander. Such had been his character and life 
that the illustrious man was called by the name 
of Old Blood-and-Thunder. This old general, 
being worn out with warfare, decided to return 
to his native valley and spend his last days in 
peace. But the most wonderful thing about 
Old Blood-and-Thunder was the fact that all 
who knew him said that he was the man so long 
hoped for in the valley, for he looked exactly 
like the Great Stone Face. 

Great preparations, therefore, were made to 
receive the General — a banquet was to be given 
and speeches made in his honor. On the day 
of the festival Ernest, with all the others of the 
village, left their work and went to the woods, 
where the banquet was held. A great crowd 
surrounded the tables, so that Ernest at first 
could not see the great man for whom he had 
waited and hoped so long, so he contented him- 
self with looking at the great face on the moun- 
tain side, which he could see plainly through 
the trees. Meanwhile he could hear those 
around him talking about Old Blood-and-Thun- 
der and the Great Stone Face. 


Page SS 


“ ’Tis the same face, to a hair,” cried one 
man, clapping his hands for joy. 

Wonderfully like, that^s a fact,” said an- 
other. 

“Like! Why, I call it Old Blood-and-Thun- 
der himself, in a monstrous looking-glass, ’ ’ 
cried a third. 

Just then a silence fell on the crowd, for the 
General rose to speak, and as he did so Ernest 
for the first time saw the hero. There he stood, 
head and shoulders above the crowd, with the 
golden epaulets glittering on his uniform. 
Long and eagerly Ernest gazed on his face, and 
then beyond, to the one on the mountain side. 
Were they, indeed, alike? Ernest saw in the 
warrior’s face only cruelty and hardness, with 
none of the tender sympathy he knew so well 
in the other face. 

“This is not the man,” sighed Ernest, as 
he turned sadly away. “Must we wait longer 
yet?” 

But as the great mountain rose before him, 
once again the lips seemed to say: “Pear not, 
Ernest; fear not. He will come.” 

The years sped swiftly by. Ernest still lived 
in the valley, a quiet and gentle man, doing his 
work as best he knew. But gradually the peo- 
ple of the village had come to know and feel 
that Ernest knew more than they. Not a day 
passed by that the world was not better because 
this man, humble as he was, had lived. He 
would always help a neighbor in need, and the 
people had learned to know where to come for 
aid. His thoughts were of things good and 


Page s6 


noble, and so his deeds and words were always- 
good. 

By this time the people had seen their mis- 
take in thinking Old Blood-and-Thnnder was 
the great man of prophecy; but now again 
there were reports saying that without doubt 
the great man had at last appeared. He, like 
Mr. Gathergold and Old Blood-and-Thunder, 
was a native of the valley, but had left it as a 
young man, and had now .become a great man. 
He had not the rich man’s wealth, nor the 
honor of the General, but he had a tongue 
which could speak more beautiful words than 
the world had ever heard before. Great crowds 
flocked to hear him from all parts of the coun- 
try. 

The people of the village were proud to think 
that they could claim the great man, for it was 
said he bore an exact likeness to the Great 
Stone Face — so much so that they called him 
‘‘Old Stony Phiz.” 

And now the illustrious man was once more 
coming to visit his native land, and great prep- 
arations were made to receive him. 

With great eagerness and hope Ernest waited 
for his coming, and on the day appointed went 
with the crowd to meet him. The air was filled 
with music and the shouts of the people, for 
now they felt that surely the old prophecy was 
to be fulfilled. 

Then the great man’s carriage came in view. 
There he sat, smiling and bowing to the people, 
while they threw up their hats in wild excite- 
ment and enthusiasm, and shouted: “Hoorah 


P»te 57 


for Old Stony Phiz. The great man has come at 
last.” 

Ernest looked long at the man as he sat in his 
carriage, bnt finally turned away sadly and 
slowly, and said : ‘ ‘ The features are alike, but 
he has not the heart nor the love and sympathy 
which make a face beautiful. He is not the 
man, but he might have been, had he lived the 
best he knew. ^ ’ 

Then again he turned to his great teacher on 
the mountain side, and, as the late afternoon 
sun tinted all its features, it seemed to smile on 
Ernest, and once more the lips seemed to speak : 

*‘Lo, here I am, Ernest. I have waited longer 
than thou, and am not yet weary. Pear not. 
The man will come. ’ ’ 

The years hurried onward, and now they be- 
gan to bring white hairs and scatter them over 
the head of Ernest. They made wrinkles across 
his forehead and furrows in his cheeks. He 
was an old man ; but more than the white hairs 
on his head were the beautiful thoughts in his 
mind, and the loving words from his lips, and 
the kindly deeds from his hands. He was no 
longer unknown. Great men from far and near 
came to see and talk with him, and as they went 
away their hearts were better for having been 
with him. He had become a preacher, and 
often, just as the sun set, he would stand on a 
little knoll and talk with the people who crowd- 
ed to hear the words he spoke. 

One evening, as Ernest sat at his doorstep, a 
friend came to talk with him. He was a poet, 
and wrote of things which God had made, in 


Page S8 


language so beautiful that one wished always to 
hear it. Ernest loved to read his words, and 
this evening, as they sat together, he looked 
long and earnestly at the poet and then up at 
the Great Stone Face, which seemed to he smil- 
ing down upon them. Then he sighed and 
shook his head sadly. 

^‘Why are you sad?’’ asked the poet. 

Then Ernest told him of the prophecy which 
he had longed all his life to see fulfilled. 
“And,” he said, “when I read your beautiful 
words, I think surely you are worthy to be the 
man I have longed to see, and yet I see no like- 
ness.” 

The poet sadly shook his head, and said : 
“No, Ernest. I am not worthy. My words, 
indeed, may be beautiful, but my life has not 
been so great and good as the words I write.” 

Then, as sunset drew near, the two walked to 
the little knoll where Ernest was to talk to the 
people. 

He stood in a little niche, with the mountains 
above him, and the glory of the evening sun 
shone around his silvered hair. At a distance 
could be seen the Great Stone Face, surrounded 
by a golden light. 

As Ernest talked his face glowed with the 
depth of his feeling, and suddenly the poet 
threw his arms above his head and shouted : 

“Behold! Behold! Ernest is himself the 
likeness of the Great Stone Face !” 

Then all the people looked and saw that 
what the poet had said was true. The proph- 
ecy was fulfilled. The Great Man had come at 
last. 

Nathaniel Hawthorne (Adapted 


Page 59 


The First Christmas Tree 




J N a forest in the far, far East grew a great 
many pine trees. Most of them were tall 
trees, higher than the houses that we see, and 
with wide, strong branches. But there was one 
tree that was not nearly so tall as the others ; in 
fact, it was no taller than some of the children 
in the kindergarten. 

Now, the tall trees could see far, far out over 
the hilltops and into the valleys, and they could 
hear all the noises that went on in the world 
beyond the forest, but the Little Tree was so 
small and the other trees grew so high and thick 
about it that it could not see nor hear these 
things at all; but the other trees were very 
kind, and they would stoop down and tell them 
to the Little Tree. One night in the winter 
time there seemed to be something strange hap- 
pening in the little town among the hills, for 
the trees did not go to sleep after the sun went 
down, but put their heads together and spoke 
in strange, low whispers that were full of awe 
and wonder. The Little Tree, from its place 
close down to the ground, did not understand 
what it was all about. It listened awhile, and 
then lifted its head as high as ever it could 
and shouted to its tall neighbor: ‘'Will you 
not stoop and tell me what is happening?'^ And 
the big tree stooped down and whispered : ‘ ‘ The 
shepherds out on the hilltops are telling strange 


Ptge 6o 


stories while they watch their sheep. The air 
is filled with sweet music, and there is a won- 
derful star coming up in the east, traveling 
westward always, and the shepherds say that 
they are waiting for it to stop and shine over 
a humble stable in their little town. I have not 
heard why it is going to stop there, but I will 
look again and listen.” So the tall tree lifted 
up its head again, and reached far out so that it 
might hear more of the wonderful story. 

Bye and bye it stooped down again, and whis- 
pered to the Little Tree: “Oh, Little Tree, 
listen ! There are angels among the shepherds 
on the hills, and they are all talking together. 
They seem to be awaiting the birth of a little 
child, who will be a king among the people, and 
the beautiful star will shine above the stable 
where the little king will be laid in a manger. ’ ’ 
The tree again raised its head to listen, and the 
Little Tree, much puzzled, thought within it- 
self: “It is very strange, indeed. ^ 

Oh, how I wish that I could see it all ! ” 

It waited a little longer, and everything grew 
quiet, and a great peace came upon the forest. 
# # # Then suddenly the town, and even the 

forest was illuminated with a strange, white 
light that made everything as bright as day, 
and the air was filled with the flutter of angels ’ 
wings, and with music such as the world had 
never heard before. 

The people and the trees, even the stars in 
the heaven, lifted up their voices and sang to- 
gether ♦ * * and the whole world was 

filled with music and joy and love for the little 


Page 6i 


Christ-child who had come to dwell upon the 
earth. 

The Little Tree was filled with fear and won- 
der, for so great was the excitement that the 
other trees had almost forgotten it, and it could 
not understand the mysterious sounds ; but bye 
and bye its tall friend said: ^‘Listen, listen. 
Little Tree! Such news I have to tell! The 
Christ has come — the King! And the whole 
world is singing such beautiful music. There 
are wise men coming from the East, bringing 
beautiful gifts to the Christ-child. The angels, 
too, are upon the earth, and they bear gifts of 
gold and rare, beautiful stones. Wait! I will 
tell you more.” 

The tall tree had scarcely lifted up its head 
when it stooped again and whispered to the Lit- 
tle Tree: “Look! Look! Little Tree! They 
are coming this way; the angels are coming 
here, into our forest ! Lift up your head high 
and you will see them as they pass. ’ ’ 

The Little Tree lifted up its head and saw the 
white flutter of angel robes and heard the 
weird, sweet voices of the heavenly host who 
came with precious gifts into the forest. 

“Oh,” said the Little Tree, “they are coming 
here, toward me ! What shall I do ? ” And in 
fear it bent its head so low that it almost 
touched the ground. But the music came near- 
er and nearer, and the Little Tree felt a tender 
hand upon its branches, and a soft, gentle voice 
said to it: “Arise, Little Tree, and come with 
us, for we have come into the forest to seek 
you. Yes, you, the very smallest among the 


Page 62 


trees, are to be oiir gift-bearer. Come ; lift up 
your head.^’ 

In fear and trembling the Little Tree did as 
the angel bade it. But when it looked into the 
angel’s face and saw the love and kindness 
there, all fear was gone, and it said to the 
angel: “Yes; make me ready. I will come 
with you to the little Christ-child in the man- 
ger.” So all the angels brought their gifts of 
precious jewels and shining gold, and fastened 
them upon the branches of the Little Tree. 
Then the leader of the angels’ band took up the 
Little Tree from the ground and bore it, laden 
with its precious burden, to the feet of the 
Christ-child. 



Page 


The Story of Abraham 

J PNG, long ago there lived in the far away 
land of Ur a man who was very wealthy. 
His name was Abraham. The country in which 
he lived was beautiful and very rich. The 
fields were not only well watered by rivers and 
streams, but were carefully cultivated. Com, 
dates, apples and grapes grew there abun- 
dantly. Pine harvests were reaped from their 
farms. Splendid herds of cattle and flocks of 
sheep were pastured in the meadows. In the 
city were beautiful homes, for the people were 
prosperous. They painted flne pictures and cut 
beautiful figures out of marble blocks, and were 
fond of music. But Abraham was not so much 
interested in the city as in the country, for he 
belonged to- a family of shepherds. He did not 
care so much for walled cities as for meadow 
lands, forest trees and running streams. When 
Abraham grew a little older he became very 
thoughtful, and began to dislike the ways of the 
people of Ur, for they were idolaters. So when 
some of the servants brought back from the 
city, idols into his father’s home, he broke 
them. His one desire was to do right and to be 
good. 

One day, when he was herding his cattle not 
far from his father’s home, he heard a strange 
Voice saying to him: ‘‘Get thee out of thy 
country and from thy kindred, and come unto 


Pace 64 


a land which I shall show ttee.” He was 
greatly surprised, and looked around to find 
out who was speaking to him. He saw no man, 
so he thought that the Voice was only a fancy 
or a day dream. A few days after, when he 
was bringing home some wandering sheep, he 
heard the same Voice, the same words, and 
thought he saw a gleam of light. He felt that 
God was speaking to him, but the words made 
him very sad. If he obeyed the Voice he knew 
that he would have to leave his friends, the 
fields where he sported with his boy compan- 
ions and loved ones, but something within him 
kept saying that he ought to obey the Voice, 
because it was God’s Voice. So he resolved to 
take his nephew. Lot, with him, and set out for 
the Promised Land. The day for starting came. 
Great bundles of goods were put upon the 
camels and led off by the drivers. Flocks of 
sheep and herds of cattle filled the morning air 
with their bleatings and their bellowings. 
Some of the people thought that Abraham was 
very foolish to undertake such a journey, and 
would certainly come to grief. His brother 
Nahor pleaded with Abraham not to go. He 
told Abraham about a great desert that he 
would have to cross. Even if he crossed it 
safely, the people in that far away country were 
very cruel, and would fight them and kill them, 
and make slaves of their children. Abraham 
listened to his brother, and said that he knew 
there were difficulties ahead of him, but he must 
obey the Voice of God. Then his face bright- 
ened, when he added that he felt sure God 


P>EC 6$ 


would watch over them all as a shepherd 
watches over his sheep. He looked brave and 
noble as he bade them all good-by and started 
off. 

At the close of the first day they halted be- 
side a stream, where the cattle drank and rested 
until morning. The servants pitched a number 
of tents and made Abraham and his family com- 
fortable. Abraham rolled together a few big 
stones and built an altar, and in the presence 
of his family and servants offered up an even- 
ing sacrifice and prayed that God should guide 
them and their little ones into the Promised 
Land. After many weary days and nights they 
reached Canaan. It was a beautiful country, 
full of vines and harvest fields, and pasture 
lands. The valleys were warm and the high- 
lands were cool. Here and there on the hill- 
sides they saw the oak, the sycamore, and the 
pine growing. Best of all, the people were kind 
to Abraham and his servants, and helped them 
to get settled in their new homes. Their new 
friends were not so rich as their old ones. They 
wore rough garments made of camePs hair and 
fastened round the waist with a belt. They 
lived in rough huts and rocky caves, and were 
warlike. But they treated Abraham gener- 
ously and were very kind to the little children. 
Abraham was delighted with the Promised 
Land, although he passed through many a 
severe trial in it. 

There was one joy, however, that brightened 
his life — God had given him a beautiful son. 
The little boy had grown to be a strong, beauti- 


Page 66 


ful youth. His mother took loving care in mak- 
ing his little garments, and his father gave him 
a pet lamb, and often brought home to him a 
wild bird. Abraham was growing old, and 
thought of the day when his boy would be a 
strong man, caring for herds and flocks. Many 
a time he prayed to God for his boy, that he 
might be true and brave and good, and worthy 
of the promises that God had made to him con- 
cerning his people. But one day, when he was 
returning from a visit to his herdsmen and was 
resting beside a well in the grove which he had 
planted in Beersheba, he heard the Voice again 
saying: “Take thy son, thine only son Isaac, 
and offer him up for a sacrifice on a mount 
which I shall show thee. ’ ’ Abraham was 
grieved. He said to himself : “I have left Ur 
and the land of my brother and my father. I 
have endured many hardships, and surely I will 
not be called upon to sacrifice my only son, my 
sweet, loving boy. I can not bear it. His 
mother can not live when she hears of it. ’ ’ But 
the Voice said more earnestly than ever: 
“Take thy son, thine only son Isaac, and offer 
him up for a sacrifice on the mount that I shall 
show thee.^^ He knew that it was the same 
Voice that had spoken to him many times, and 
that he must obey it. And there gradually 
came into his life strength and a willingness to 
obey the Voice. After necessary preparation 
Abraham, his son, and his servants set out for 
the mountain. For three days they journeyed 
under divine guidance, until they came to the 
foot of the mount. Then Abraham said to his 


Page 67 


servants: Abide ye here, and I and the lad 

will go and worship yonder, and come unto you 
again. The young lad was happy over the 
coming sacrifice. He shouldered the bundle of 
wood and started off up the hillside. But he 
did not see the lamb, and, turning to his father, 
said: “Behold the fire and the wood, but 
where is the lamb for the burnt offering The 
question so innocently asked grieved the fath- 
er ’s heart, for he knew that God had command- 
ed him to offer up his son instead of a lamb. 
He felt that he could not tell his boy about it, so 
he said : ‘ ‘ God Himself will provide a lamb for 
the burnt offering.” At last they came to the 
spot where the sacrifice was to be offered. The 
father, very sad and broken-hearted, began roll- 
ing together some stones for an altar. Slowly 
he laid the wood in its place, and wept when he 
thought of the sacrifice. Then with a tearful 
voice he told the lad that he was to be the sac- 
rifice. He laid the boy upon the altar and 
kissed him. At that moment he heard a Voice, 
louder than ever before, saying: “Abraham.” 
He answered, “Here am I.” The Voice said: 
“Lay not thy hand upon the lad, neither do 
any harm unto him, for now I know that thou 
fearest God, seeing that thou hast not withheld 
thy son, thine only son, from me.” With glad 
wonder Abraham looked around, and there, to 
his great surprise, a ram was caught in some 
thick bushes. Hurriedly he caught the ram, 
unbound his son, and offered up the ram as. a 
sacrifice with great joy. And, kneeling beside 
the altar, the aged father thanked God, and 


Page 68 


homeward they returned with glad hearts and 
happy spirits. 

And Isaac grew to be a good and noble man, 
and the Lord prospered him. His father, Abra- 
ham, lived many years in the Promised Land, 
and when he died the whole country was full 
of grief, and with sorrow mingled with love 
they followed the aged saint to the sunny slopes 
of beautiful Macpelah and laid him in the tomb. 
Each whispered to the other that he was a good 
and brave man. Many a time they would visit 
the cave where the great man lay and tell one 
another about his wonderful life, his many 
trials, his noble faith, and how he always 
obeyed the Voice of God. 

On a rough stone beside the tomb a friend 
chiseled the words: “Abraham, the Friend of 
God.’’ 

Bible [Adapted 



fige 69 


The Story of Moses 




M ANY years ago, the Heavenly Father sent 
a baby boy into a home in a far country. 

When a baby comes to your home you want 
to tell every one you see, do you not 1 

But in that little home it was very different. 
Miriam, the baby’s sister, could not tell any one 
about the little brother, and the poor mother 
had to keep the baby hidden away. Shall I tell 
you why ? 

In that country there lived a wicked king, 
who did not love little children, and whenever 
he heard that a boy baby had come into a house 
he sent his soldiers to take the baby away. 

This mother loved her baby dearly, and she 
wanted to keep him always. But when the 
baby began to grow, and to laugh and to cry, 
just as all babies do, the mother’s heart was 
very sad, for she knew she could hide him no 
longer. 

One day she took the baby and went down to 
the river. There she gathered a great many 
of the tall grasses that grew on the river bank, 
and of these grasses she made a little basket, or 
ark, just large enough to hold the baby. She 
wove it carefully, and when it was finished she 
covered it over with pitch and slime, so that no 
water could come into it. 

Then she lifted her baby, put him into the 
queer little basket, carried the basket to the 
river and set it down carefully in the water. 


P«ee 70 


The tall rushes growing there held the little 
cradle, that the water might not wash it away. 

The mother turned and went quickly to her 
home. But do you think she left the baby 
alone? Ah, no. Among the tall grasses near 
the river’s brim stood Miriam, the sister, pa- 
tiently watching the queer cradle. 

While Miriam watched, the princess came to 
the river to bathe. The maidens who had come 
to help her walked along the river’s side. 

Presently the princess saw the queer little 
basket and sent one of her maids to get it. 

When the princess opened the basket, the 
baby wakened and began to cry, and the prin- 
cess felt very sorry for the little one. 

Miriam, who had watched so faithfully beside 
the river, now came to the princess. 

Shall I go and find thee a woman who will 
take care of the child?” she said. And the 
princess said, ‘‘Go.” 

What did Miriam do, do you think ? She ran 
as fast as she could and brought the baby ’s own 
mother. 

When the princess saw the mother she did 
not know that it was the baby’s own mother, 
and she said to her: “Take this child away 
and nurse it for me, and I will give thee thy 
wages.” 

Do you not think that mother’s heart was 
glad as she took her own baby home? The 
baby could run and play now, and laugh and 
crow as much as it liked, for the great princess 
loved him, and no harm could come to him. 

The mother called the baby’s name “Moses,” 


Page 71 


she said, ^‘because I drew him out of the 
water, ’ ^ and in that far country that is what the 
name ‘‘^foses’^ 7neans. 

Bible [Adtpled 



P»ee 71 


The Story of David 


ONG, long ago, on the green hills of Bethle- 
hem, a little shepherd boy tended his sheep. 

Buddy and strong was little David, for the 
sun gave him rosy cheeks, and the bracing 
wind made him long to run races with his own 
shadow, just from pure happiness. 

Many a time he lay on the soft grass, gazing 
up at the blue sky, dotted with fleecy white 
clouds — white as his own lambs. Many a time, 
as he led his flock homeward at evening, he saw 
the sun sink in the gold and crimson west, and, 
as the dusk deepened, the great round moon 
rise above the hills, flooding the world with sil- 
very light. 

With all this beauty around him, do you won- 
der that he was good and happy? 

One day, while David was watching his sheep 
in the field, Samuel, the High Priest of the 
Lord, appeared before Jesse, David’s father. 

On a very wonderful errand had he come. 

He told David’s father that the Lord had 
chosen one of his sons to be the new king of 
Israel, because Saul, the old king, was no longer 
fit to rule. 

‘ ‘ Call all your sons before me, ’ ’ said Samuel, 
‘ ^ that I may anoint the Lord ’s chosen one. ’ ’ 

Oh, how proudly Jesse called his eldest son ! 

Tall, and straight, and strong, he stood there, 
looking every inch a king. 


Page 73 


“Surely,” thought Samuel, “I have found 
him !” 

But the Lord looked down into his heart — 
just as he looks into our hearts today — and saw 
that all was not right there, and so the Lord 
said to Samuel: “He is not the chosen one.” 

Then Samuel asked Jesse to call his second 
son. 

But when the Lord read his thoughts He said 
to the priest: “No; I have not chosen this 
one.” 

Jesse called his third son, but Samuel only 
shook his head. In haste, Jesse called all his 
other sons before the High Priest, but Samuel 
was forced to say sadly, “The Lord hath not 
chosen these. ’ ' Almost in despair, he turned to 
Jesse, asking: “Are all thy children here?” 
And he answered: “There remaineth yet the 
youngest, and behold, he keepeth the sheep. ’ ’ 

Joyfully Samuel cried: “Send and fetch 
him, for we will not sit down till he come 
hither. ’ ’ And he sent and brought him in. 

When Samuel looked into his pure, innocent 
face, he knew that now the chosen one of the 
Lord stood before him. 

Taking his horn of oil, he anointed him King 
of Israel, ' ‘ and the spirit of the Lord came upon 
David from that day forward. ’ ’ 

When Samuel left him, David went quietly 
back to the field, and tended his sheep, just as 
of old. 

Day by day he tried to do every duty well, so 
that bye and bye he would be worthy to be a 
king. 


Page 74 


Meanwhile, up in his royal palace, King Saul 
was in deep trouble. In his distress he longed 
to hear the beautiful music of the harp. He 
therefore sent for David, that he might play for 
him. When David came he paused beside the 
throne, and Saul, looking up, saw before him a 
tall and handsome youth, bearing a golden 
harp. 

Bowing low, David begged permission to 
play for his King. Gladly Saul bade him 
bogiu. 

First, the young harpist struck a ringing 
chord that thrilled through the vast hall. 

Then he began to play a low, sweet melody ! 

It sounded like the summer breeze sighing 
softly over a grassy meadow, and setting the 
dainty daisies and buttercups swaying on their 
stems. Suddenly the music swelled stronger, 
until it seemed like a flashing fountain, spring- 
ing up in a burst of sparkling spray. 

Then the sweet tones slowly softened. 

Fainter they grew — and yet fainter — like the 
music of a dream — till at last they died away 
into silence. 

Spellbound sat King Saul when the player 
ceased. 

And David came to- Saul and stood before 
him, and Saul loved him greatly, and he became 
his armor bearer. 

Long afterward David wore the crown of 
Israel. 

He was a wise and good king, for the Heav- 
enly Father, who blessed his youth, watched 
over him all his days. 

Bible [Adapted 


Page 75 


The Story of Joseph 

M ANY years ago there lived a little lad 
named Joseph. He was comely, and his 
face was beautiful, because his heart was pure 
and good. 

Joseph had many brothers, but because of his 
gentleness and comeliness the old father loved 
him more than all the others. One time he 
gave Joseph a coat woven with many beautiful 
colors, as a token of his love for his favorite 
son. 

Now, when the older brothers saw this they 
were angry and jealous, and from that time on 
they sought to do him harm. 

Jacob, the father, owned many sheep, and 
the sons cared for them, sometimes leading 
them far from home to find the best pastures. 
Joseph often went with the brothers to tend the 
flocks, but he loved best to care for the tender 
little lambs, leading them into the greenest pas- 
tures and beside the quiet water. 

One time the brothers were far from home 
with the flocks, and the father, being anxious 
for them and longing to know how they fared, 
sent Joseph, the beloved son, with many provi- 
sions, to the place where his brothers were. 
The lad started on his journey with a light and 
mtrry heart, for all the world looked bright to 
him. He wore the beautiful coat of many col- 
ors, and the people often stopped to look at the 
lad, with his comely face and beautiful coat. 


Page 76 


As he approached the place where his broth- 
ers were they saw him when he was yet some 
distance away, but the anger and jealousy arose 
in their hearts, and they said: “Ah! Here 
comes the best beloved son. Let us do away 
with him. Then the love which our father 
gives to him may be bestowed upon us.” So, 
as the lad drew nearer, they planned how they 
might destroy him. But one, the oldest broth- 
er, loved Joseph, and tried to save him from the 
hands of his evil brothers. So when they said, 
“Let us destroy him,” Reuben, the eldest, said : 

‘ ‘ Nay, but let us cast him into a pit near by, ’ ’ 
thinking he would save him when the other 
brothers left. 

So when Joseph drew near they seized him, 
stripped him of his coat of many colors, and 
cast him into a pit, and left him there alone. 

Then they said : “Let us make a feast. See^ 
our father hath sent us many things.” And 
they sat down and made a feast with the things 
which their brother Joseph had brought to 
them. 

As they were eating they looked up, and, 
coming down the roadway, they saw a large 
company of merchantmen passing on their way 
to Egypt. Then an evil plan came to the mind 
of one brother, and he said: “It is going to 
bring us no gain to keep Joseph in the pit. Let 
us sell him to those men and gain money for 
ourselves.” The brothers agreed, and Joseph, 
the beloved son, was sold into Egypt for twenty 
pieces of silver. 

When the brothers went home they took the 


Pate 77 


coat of many colors to the old father, and said : 
“Is not this thy son’s coat which we found? 
An evil beast hath surely destroyed him,” 
And the old father wept for Joseph, his son. 
and would not be comforted. 

PAET II. 

The great caravan moved toward Egypt, and 
there the boy was sold again into the hands of 
a very rich man, in whose sight he found great 
favor, and who placed him in a position of 
honor in his own household. And Joseph grew 
in comeliness and beauty, for his heart was 
pure and the Lord was his friend and helper, 
prospering him in all that he did. He grew in 
favor with his master, who in turn made him 
ruler over all his house. 

But Joseph had an enemy in the house, one 
who was jealous of his great honor and posi- 
tion, and she tried in every way to do Joseph 
harm. One day she falsely told the master of 
the house that Joseph had done a very evil 
thing. The master, being exceedingly angry, 
and thinking Joseph had betrayed his trust, 
stripped him of his fine garments and cast him 
into prison. 

But the Lord was still with Joseph in his 
great trouble, so that he found favor with the 
keeper of the prison, who treated him most 
kindly, and Joseph sought in many ways to re- 
lieve the suffering and sorrow of those in the 
prison with him. 

One day he helped two of the king’s servants 


Page 78 


by telling them the meaning of two strange 
dreams they had, for dreams in those olden 
days were often sent to people by God to warn 
them, or prepare them for something which 
would happen, and God gave to Joseph the wis-' 
dom to understand the meaning and interpreta- 
tion of those dreams. Thus, when the two ser- 
vants were troubled because of their dreams, 
Joseph told them the meaning. One servant 
was released from the prison, and as he left, 
Joseph asked that he might remember him 
when he came before the king, that he, too, 
might be released. But the servant, when he 
was free, forgot the one who had helped him 
when in trouble. 

Two years passed away, and Joseph remained 
in prison, but he still trusted in his God. 

One night Pharaoh, the King of Egypt, was 
much troubled by his strange dreams. He 
called together all of his wise men and magi- 
cians, to know the interpretation of them, but 
none could tell the meaning. The king’s trou- 
ble became known to his servants, and suddenly 
the one who had been in prison remembered 
Joseph, the man who had interpreted his own 
dream. He quickly told the king, who ordered 
Joseph to be brought immediately before him. 

When Joseph stood before Pharaoh, the king 
of Egypt, he humbly bowed his head, and said : 
^‘The wisdom is not mine, but God in heaven 
shall tell thee the interpretation of thy 
dreams.” And Joseph spoke to the king as 
God gave him wisdom, and told him the mean- 
ing of his dreams. And this was the meaning : 


Page 79 


There should be seven years of plenty in the 
land of Egypt, and after that, seven years of 
famine throughout the land. 

Then Joseph said: ‘‘Let Pharaoh, the king, 
choose a man, wise and discreet, who will sow 
and gather the harvest for the seven years of 
plenty, to fill the barns and storehouses with 
grain, so that when the seven years of famine 
come there will be grain enough and to spare 
in the land of Egypt.'’ 

As Pharaoh, the king, looked upon Joseph 
and heard him speak, he loved him, and said : 

‘ ‘ In all Egypt there is no man so wise as thou. 
Gather the harvest, to fill the barns and store- 
houses, in the seven years of plenty. I will 
make thee ruler over all Egypt. Thou shalt 
dwell with me and all men shall obey thee. ’ ’ 

And Pharaoh took off the ring from his own 
hand and put it upon Joseph's hand, and 
dressed him in beautiful garments, and put a 
gold chain about his neck. And Joseph rode 
in the chariot next to the king of Egypt, and as 
they rode through the streets all the people 
bowed before Joseph and knew him as their 
ruler, and loved him. 

Then Joseph went throughout all Egypt and 
commanded the people to build great store- 
houses and barns, and to gather in the corn and 
grain, and fill them full, against the seven years 
of famine which were to come. When the seven 
j^ears of plenty were passed, and the famine 
was over all the land, there was grain and to 
spare in all Egypt, because Joseph had gath- 
ered the storehouses full. 


Page 8o 


When the people from other countries heard 
this they came to Egypt to buy bread, and the 
king sent them to Joseph. And Joseph opened 
the great storehouses, and sold grain to all who 
came. And the Lord was with Joseph and 
prospered him in all that he did. 

PAET III. 

Now, Jacob, with his eleven sons, Joseph’s 
brothers, still lived in the land of Canaan, and 
the famine was over all the land, so that there 
was no bread in the house to eat. 

Then Jacob, the father, called his sons to him 
and said: have heard that there is corn in 

Egypt. Go down there and buy for us, that we 
may live and not die.” 

So Joseph’s brothers came to Egypt to buy 
grain, and Joseph was ruler over all Egypt, 
and sold grain to all who came. His brothers 
came before him and bowed their faces to the 
ground as they asked for food, for the famine 
was sore in their land. Now, Joseph knew his 
brothers when he saw them, but they knew not 
the little lad they had sold into the land of 
Egypt for twenty pieces of silver. 

Joseph did not make himself known to his 
brothers, but asked them about their country 
and their homes, if they had a father and other 
brothers; and when they spoke of the old 
father, Jacob, and the youngest brother, Ben- 
jamin, who had stayed with the old father, 
Joseph longed to tell them that he was the 
brother whom the father had mourned as lost ; 


Page 8i 


blit he waited, and treated his brothers as 
strangers, for they knew him not. Then he sent 
them home with their sacks full of grain, and 
took no money for it. But when they returned 
the second time to Egypt, Joseph’s heart 
yearned for them, and for his old father and 
youngest brother. When they were alone, he 
stood before his brothers, and, looking at them, 
said: “Do you not know me? I am your 
brother, Joseph, the little lad whom you sold 
into Egypt. ’ ’ 

z*' But when his brothers heard this they were 
; much afraid, and drew away from him, for 
; they thought, now that he was ruler over all 
\ Egypt, he would surely punish them for their 
! evil treatment of him. But Joseph said: 

“Come near me and do not be afraid, nor grieve 
/ that you sold me into Egypt, for God has been 
with me and kept me, and made me'’ riilef, so 
that I have been able to save many people from 
h the famine.” 

Then the brothers drew near, and Joseph 
wept with them, for he loved them. Then he 
said: “Go back and bring my father, Jacob, 
and my youngest brother, Benjamin, that we 
may live together once more. ’ ’ 

And Joseph went to meet his father in a 
chariot, and brought him before Pharaoh, and 
the king was much pleased, for he loved Joseph 
and all his household. 

Then Joseph gave to his father and brothers 
houses and lands, so that they all lived together 
in peace in the land of Egypt. 

And the Lord was with Joseph and prospered 
him all the days of his life. 

Bible [Adapted 


Page 82 


The Courtesy of the Spartan Boy 


'^HERE were, hundreds of years ago, two 
very large and grand cities, which strove 
to excel each other. The one city was Sparta, 
the other was Athens. These cities were not 
like our cities of today. They had beautiful, 
broad streets, but no street cars. They had 
mignificent buildings, but no electric lights. 
They did have schools, but they were unlike our 
schools. The boys in both Athens and Sparta 
were taken away to school when they were six 
years of age. 

In Athens the boys were taught that they 
must become very strong and manly. They had 
running, jumping, leaping, swimming, and rac- 
ing exercises, to give them rigid muscles and 
strong, healthy bodies. Occasionally they were 
allowed to visit at their homes for a day or two. 
The boys were also taught to sing and to read. 

The Spartan boy was taught that he must 
become very strong and self-reliant. His school- 
room was very plain and bare. He was never 
allowed to go home to visit. He had to wear, 
in both summer and winter, the same plain, 
loose clothing. He slept out of doors in the 
summer-time, under the trees. In the winter- 
time he slept in a very open building, on a bed 
of reeds and rushes, which he had to gather 
from the river in the long, heated summer days 
for his winter bed. He had no bedclothing ex- 


Pagc 85 


cept the down which the wild ducks had shed, 
and which he had gathered in the forests. He 
learned to read, write, and to sing. He learned 
to run, to leap, to swim, and to throw the 
javelin. 

One time the boys from both Athens and 
Sparta were to meet in a great amphitheater to 
hear a very wise and learned old man speak. 
The boys had all gathered, and with them many 
other people. The amphitheater was full. Not 
a vacant seat was left, and the people were 
patiently waiting for the old man to appear. 
At last he came. He came in so quietly that he 
was not noticed, except by two boys, one on 
each side of the aisle. One was a Spartan boy 
and one was an Athenian. The Athenian boy 
and Spartan boy both rose immediately. The 
Athenian boy sat down, but the Spartan boy 
still stood. He insisted that the old man take 
his seat, but the old man gently refused, and 
passed on up the aisle to the place from which 
he was to address the people. Then the Spar- 
tan boy sat down. The old man recognized this 
act of courtesy, and, while talking to the boys, 
said that the Athenian boy knew what to do, 
but did not do it. The Spartan boy had the 
courage to do it. 



Paee 84 


tlwentie^tbtrb psalm 


■X 


Ube Xorb Is ms sbepberb; f shall not 
want. 

De mahetb me to He bown tn gceen 
pastures: be leabetb me bestbe tbe 
still waters. 

De restoretb m? soul : be leabetb me 
In paths of righteousness for bis 
name's sahe. 

l^ea, though fl walb through tbe valleg 
of tbe sbabow of beatb, 11 will fear no 
evil : for tbou art with me; tbs rob anb 
tbs staff tbes comfort me. 

XTbou preparest a table before me tn 
tbe presence of mine enemies: tbou 
annotntest ms beab with oil; ms cup 
runnetb over. 

Surels goobness anb meres shall follow 
me all tbe bass of ms life: anb H will 
bwell In tbe bouse of tbe Xorb for* 
ever. 

Bible 


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